


The Wolves - Part 1

by RoslynStVincent



Series: The Wolves [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Original Character(s), Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-13
Updated: 2012-05-14
Packaged: 2017-11-05 06:57:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 74,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/403647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoslynStVincent/pseuds/RoslynStVincent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the wolf Fenrir thought would become his mate ends up being responsible for the massacre of half his pack by hunters, Fenrir travels to distant lands to challenge another Alpha, hoping to strengthen his family.  He promised himself he wouldn't fall again, for anyone, but the green eyes of a new pack member will change that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Hunters

**Author's Note:**

> Fenrir's pack is first located in Finland, in a forested area near Lake Inari, which is in Lapland, the northern most region of Finland. I've never been there, or even close. It's just a place that I chose because I read that Finland is one of the most forested countries in the world and I thought it would be the perfect place for a pack of werewolves to settle. The pack members are originated from surrounding countries and for that reason, I chose names of Nordic origins for the members of Fenrir's pack.  
> For Lucan Donegan's pack members, I chose old Gaelic names, even if the members are not necessarily from that exact origin, but they are mostly from around England, Ireland and Scotland. Since they were bitten very young and Lucan took them away from their families, he is the one who gave them their current names. But apart from Harry and Fenrir, you will meet no other original character in this part of the story.  
> Finally, in this story, there is no "destined mate". The mate of a wolf is chosen just as human choose a lover, and male werewolves cannot have babies.

_"Once I saw him in the moonlight, when the bats were flying. I saw the werewolf, and the werewolf was crying. Crying nobody knows, nobody knows, nobody knows I love the man as I tear off his clothes.  Crying nobody knows, nobody knows my pain, when I see that it's rising, that full moon again."_

-Cat Power, Werewolf

 

_"We have doomed the Wolf not for what it is, but for what we have deliberately and mistakenly perceived it to be... the mythological epitome of a savage, ruthless killer... which is, in reality, no more than a reflected image of ourselves."_

-Farley Mowat

 

 

THERE WAS THE body of a child near the large oak tree.  The wound was on the left side of his face, pouring thick crimson blood.  If he hadn't been the one to tie the old piece of plaid fabric around the six year old boy's scraped knee that very morning, Fenrir wouldn't have been able to recognise him.  He was the youngest son of his sister Yrsa.  The hunters had shot him while he ran.  Digging a quick hole with the heel of his boot and sticking his lit torch into the ground, the Alpha crouched near the boy's body, trying to shield him away from the searching eyes of the others walking nearby.

The hunters had come at twilight, twelve of them, with no warning, carrying rifles and shouting accusations in Sami.  They closed in on the pack almsot exactly as a pack of wild wolves closes in on its prey.  The strongest had stayed to fight while the others ran back to safety.  Speed and strength was nothing compared to guns and bullets, however, and many fell before they reached the caves.  After it was over, there were only six of them still standin, but all the hunters were dead.  Loftr, who was generally the wisest and most reasonable of them all, had killed the last two with their own guns, shooting them in the feet, the knees, the shoulders, before aimint for the head. And then he dropped the rifle to the ground next to the humans' corpses and he spit on them.

Fenrir wanted to hide the body of Ravn from his father.  He didn't want the man to see him like this, but it was inevitable.  Kolfinn fell to his knees near the Alpha, rough sobs wrecking through his slender but muscular frame.  "No!" he chocked out, lifting the small body of his son and cradling it close to his chest, the blood quickly staining his already dirty clothes.  "No!  Please!  No!" Sandy brown hair fell on his face as he bent his neck towards the ground in pain.

Fenrir heard quiet footsteps behind him and he looked up to see Ralf's silent form towering over the both of them.  The Alpha could see the rage behind the other man's eyes as he glanced at the little boy's body and he knew that his own gaze held the same fury.  He stood to face the man.

"How many?" Fenrir asked, but he really didn't want to know the answer because he knew the number would be far higher than what it ought to be.

"With the boy... nine," Ralf spoke quietly.  "Eidnar didn't make it," he added, jerking his head towards the body of his brother lying near a tree stump, letting Fenrir know whose blood was staining his hands and shirt.  "The bullet went through his stomach... I think... I'm no healer..."

Fenrir watched as Eidnar's son, Janus, leaned over his dead father and kissed his forehead before gently closing his eyes.

"It's okay, Ralf.  You did what you could," the Alpha assured him.

They were silent for a while, looking over the sobbing form of Kolfinn mourning his son. They would leave him a few minutes before they started gathering the bodies.

Loftr joined them.  He was limping slightly.  "Oh, God," he mumbled as he saw the body of Kolfinn's son.  "Someone should go back to the caves and gather everyone," he said very quietly so that the man on the ground could not hear.  "We have to burn them before the animals come..."

"I'll go," Ralf said quickly.  

Fenrir could tell he was eager to leave the site of the massacre.  He nodded to them before leaving.

"What are we going to do about _him_?" Loftr asked.

Fenrir saw that he was pointing to the form of a younger man sitting farther away under a pine tree, hugging his knees to his chest.  Even though Fenrir could not see his face in the darkness, he knew that he'd been watching them for a moment now.

"The others will want retribution, Fen..." Loftr added with a warning tone.  "They will blame him for this..."

Suddenly, Kolfinn's cries stopped and gently, he laid his youngest son's body back on the forest floor, brushed the boy's hair away from his bloodied face and stood up slowly.  Fenrir recognised his stance and held out an arm to catch his shoulder before he could approach the figure under the pine tree.

"Kolfinn, don't," Fenrir warned and the other man froze in obedience to his Alpha.  His face, however, showed and uncontained fury as he turned to him.

"It's all his fault, Fenrir!  It's _his_ fault!  He's the one responsible for all this!  He killed my son!  I want him dead!  How can you _still_ defend him?"  He pointed towards the young man as he spat out the words with a hatred that Fenrir had never heard coming from his brother-in-law, but he understood it.

In his rage and grief, Kolfinn was saying out loud what everyone had been thinking, because that boy under the tree had been taken under Fenrir's wing and nobody was bold enough to confront the Alpha, nobody but Loftr.

It started about six months ago, when Eidnar and Ralf, who were responsible for hunting and bringing back enough food to feed the pack, reported to Fenrir that they had started finding dead animals in the woods, always in the days following the full moon.  There were many carcasses, all half-eaten, as if the predator had jumped from one prey to another, unable to decide which one to settle with.  This was obviously the job of rogue werewolves, but from the scent and the prints they had found, there was only one of them.  It wasn't long after that that they started picking up the scent around their territory, but never inside.  The lone wolf seemed clever enough not to penetrate an unknown pack's territory without the Alpha's permission.  This was especially important for packs that contained females and children, like Fenrir's.

The rogue werewolf had watched the pack for days, never showing himself.  Fenrir finally had enough, left the pack's territory accompanied by Loftr, and called to the stranger to come out.  They both thought it was better to deal with this wolf before he got too close to the Sami village nearby, risking exposing them all.  They were expecting something different than a twenty-six year old skinny young man who looked sick and wounded.  The boy told them he had been attacked by a wolf a year ago and left for dead.  Apparently the wolf hadn't planned on him surviving and turning because it was one of the first rules of the werewolves never to leave a newly-turned without basic instructions on how to behave, how to feed, and how to avoid populated areas.

Now people didn't believe as much in werewolves and magic as they did back in the early 1900's, but in this isolated wilderness, people in small villages still believe in those old tales of men transforming into heartless beasts at the full moon.  And unfortunately, those places were the best hideouts for the wolf packs - mountain areas surrounded by large, dense forests with plenty of prey, wide lakes of pure water and sometimes caves where they could sleep safely and stock up on food.

Fenrir's pack had been residing in Lake Inari, one of the largest lakes in Finland, but ti was frozen most of the year.  They melted snow or used torches to melt patches of ice so that they could get water during the cold season.  Mostly, they hunted large bears because the meat was good and they could also use the thick fur to shelter their human bodies against the cold.  They had to be careful of the Sami people who resided nearby and were aware of the old legends and easily became suspicious.

The boy had been bitten somewhere in Norway and had wandered around, searching for other wolves until, by chance, he stumbled upon Fenrir's pack.  His name was Tuomas.  As an Alpha, Fenrir couldn't let an ignorant werewolf loose into the world.  He had to take him in and teach him their ways.  And so Tuomas became one of them, almost.  He listened to the advice and showed respect to the older wolves, but seemed to do things entirely his way.  He was powerful for one so skinny and unhealthy.  On his first full moon with Fenrir's pack, four wolves had to join forces to keep him from sprinting up to the Sami village and satisfy his hunger for human flesh.  Apparently, he had tasted it a few times when he couldn't find any animal, and once you started on human meat, it was hard to keep away.  After this incident, there was considerable tension in the pack and they all seemed to want Tuomas gone.  Werewolves had good instinct.  They smelled the smoke before anyone had even thought about lighting a fire.

Two days before had been the full moon, and in the midst of it all, Tuomas had disappeared for an hour.  When he came back he was bloodied, and it wasn't from the deer the pack had feasted on.  He reeked of human blood as if he had bathed in it.  In the morning, the pack's guard - composed of Fenrir, Loftr, Kolfinn, Eidnar and Ralf - had cornered him.  Scared out of his wits, the boy swore that he hadn't meant to do it, that nobody had seen him, that they would think it was just a wild animal.  He had dragged the body into the woods.  Surely they would believe the woman had gone in there herself and been attacked.  Fenrir had feared for the safety of the pack, but there was nothing they could do.  They could not flee now because they were still too weak from the transformations.  As punishment, the boy was put in isolation and forced to stay away from the others as they comforted each other after the transformation, healed their wounds, warmed their bodies near the fire and ate a filling meal.

Someone in the village already had suspicions about the strange people who lived in the woods and the large wolves they could sometimes glimpse running through the trees.  The dead woman in the forest only pushed them to act out on their suspicions.  And because the pack had been weakened, they stood no chance.

And now the boy sat underneath the same tree had been confined to as punishment, hugging himself, trembling, scared, because he knew all of this was his fault, and he knew what was coming for him.

"Let me do it, Fenrir! I'll make him pay! You can't keep protecting him after this!" Kolfinn hissed through gritted teeth. There were heavy tears of rage in the man's dark brown eyes.

"No," was the Alpha's response. "I'll handle it myself." And he left the two men, making his way towards Tuomas with an air of determination on his face. It was partly his fault after all. He should have never taken him in.

"Fenrir," he heard as soon as he stepped closer to the large pine tree. The voice was faint and it trembled slightly but the name came out almost as a relieved sigh.

"Come out from under there, now," the Alpha said and he heard the boy shift slightly on the leaves-covered ground but he made no move to stand. Fenrir suppressed a growl of anger. "Come out, Tuomas, it's an order."

The boy jumped out of his hiding place and his slight body collided heavily with Fenrir's as Tuomas wrapped his shaking arms around the Alpha, trembling with fear. He knew what was coming.

Even if it hurts to admit it, Fenrir had taken a liking to this young werewolf, despite his terrible attitude and his rebellious ways. But this liking had been his downfall. There came a point when the boy knew that whatever ridiculous stunt he pulled, Fenrir would never punish him as bad as he deserved it. There was a small part of Tuomas, the carefree and adventurous part of him, that reminded Fenrir of what he wanted in a mate, but the insufferable brat part cancelled all that.

"You'll protect me, won't you, Fen?" he asked, his voice quiet against the Alpha's ear. "You won't let them hurt me."

"Of course I won't," Fenrir answered, raising his hands to cradle the boy's head against his chest. But there was no protecting this time and his heart clenched painfully as he reminded himself of this. As soon as he felt the body relax against him, he shut his eyes tightly, grabbed Tuomas' head firmly in between his palms and snapped the boy's neck to the side with brute force. The crack of the bones echoed through the now silent forest and Fenrir laid the body on the ground before him.

Janus, who had been wandering around to collect some wood for the burning, stopped near his Alpha and softly put a hand on the larger man's shoulder. "It was better to end it quickly," he said. His voice sounded raw and Fenrir supposed that it was from crying over his father's death. "The others, they wouldn't have been as generous as you."

"You're not angry at him for Eidnar?" Fenrir asked quietly to the twenty-four year old boy. His eyes were slightly swollen but Janus managed a soft smile.

"My father was a brave man and he died defending the pack. If he had lived to die of old age, he would have been insufferable about it. And there is really no use blaming anyone. It wouldn't undo what happened." Once again, Fenrir was astonished at the wisdom that boy possessed.

They had just started putting the wood together when the others joined them. There were hugs of relief as some of the men reunited with their loved ones, but mostly there were tears. And then they piled up the bodies of the fallen and Fenrir, being the Alpha, stepped solemnly forward and, with his torch, set fire to the large bed of wood and twigs. As the corpses burned, his gaze settled upon Ravn's small body being consumed by flames and the heavy sobs coming from his sister told him that she was doing the same. His large hand gripped hers tightly as she cried into Kolfinn's shoulder. If it had been summer, they would have buried him, but the ground was still half-frozen and there wasn't enough time to dig.

The fire burned through the night and they took some time to cry and some time to tend to their injuries the best they could, for their healer was among the dad. When dawn started filtering its light through the trees, Fenrir whistled for everyone to father around. Slowly, what was left of his pack – fifteen people, himself included – surrounded him.

He cleared his throat painfully but a long moment passed before he spoke. "You are my family," he said then and he wished his voice had been stronger. "Some of you are tied to me my blood, but I consider you all my family. Some of you have been with me from the start, others have joined us along the way, but my love for you is more than words can express."

He felt Loftr step closer to him, ready to offer his support. "What we have suffered, the losses we will have to live with, everything that happened here tonight is the consequence of my lack of judgement. I have failed you in the worst possible way. There is nothing that I can do to make this right and asking you to forgive me would be disgraceful on my part."

He paused and glanced back to the thirteen bodies left from the massacre. "I have disposed of the one who brought this upon us because his rebellious nature was uncontrollable." He couldn't bring himself to speak Tuomas' name, both from the shame of having once included him in his family and because he feared that it would start a riot among those left. "It should have been done sooner and I realise now what you have all been trying to tell me. I should have listened to you and I will from now on. I will never ignore you and I will never again doubt you, for you are all I have left in the world and often, I think, I have forgotten that." He could feel pain swell up in his chest as he spoke and glanced at the faces of his loved ones, one after the other. Some of them were crying, some of them were standing strong, but they were all silent, listening to their Alpha as he laid bare his soul for them to witness.

"My loneliness and desire for companionship has hurt us," he spoke then and his eyes travelled to the ground. The pack members knew that the main reason why Tuomas had been allowed to stay was because Fenrir saw in him a potential mate and a part of them understood. It was unusual for a wolf as powerful as Fenrir, as old as him, and for an Alpha, not to have chosen a mate already." I will never again let this weakness cloud my judgement. I promise that from now on, I will be a better Alpha and I will be a better man. I promise to fix us, to protect what is left of our family."

He raised his head again and when no one interrupted he continued more formally. "Morning is nearly upon us and others will come to look for those humans. I know you are still weak and afraid, and I know that you want nothing more than to rest and mourn our loved ones, but we cannot stay here. We have to leave this land at once."

There was a shift in the air as what everyone had tried to ignore was finally said in words. "I give you an hour to go back to the caves and gather your belongings. Take only what is necessary. The guard will gather rations of food and water for the road."

He hesitated for a moment before he continued. "I understand if some of you feel like this pack... If some of you feel like I..." He took a deep breath. "If any of you want to follow your own way, you have my blessing, for what it's worth." There was a stunned silence. "Now go. We will meet back here in an hour."

They dispersed quickly and headed back towards the caves. Loftr and Ralf remained with Fenrir with Kolfinn, after a nod from the Alpha, followed his family back to the caves to help them pack. Janus stayed behind to help, already knowing that he ought to take his dead father's place.

"Loftr, do you think you can catch something?" Fenrir asked his friend, eyeing his bandaged thigh. The bullet had just grazed him but still, the wound was there.

"Are you mocking me?" the older werewolf asked, feigning outrage. "I'll catch two  _somethings_ , three if I have enough time."

Fenrir managed a very weak smile and turned towards Janus. "Go with him. I think he might be over-confident." Janus nodded and followed Loftr deeper into the woods. "Ralf, will you get the water..."

The Alpha interrupted himself when his eyes fell on the forty-two year old werewolf who had been with his pack for eight years. The man was looking to the ground on his right, staring at a large stone covered with moss. His face showed regret and shame.

"You want to leave, Ralf," Fenrir spoke quietly, but there was no blame in his voice, just surprise. If someone did take him up on his offer to desert the pack, he hadn't thought it would be Ralf. He still had two nephews here, and a sister-in-law. Fenrir though that some of the other wolves, those who didn't have any blood family, would feel the urge to leave.

"I'm sorry... Fenrir... I can't stay..." the man said finally, raising his head to look at the Alpha. "It doesn't all have to do with this," he assured quickly, gesturing to the forest around them and the bed of smoke and the bodies of the hunters. "There is... I heard Goftrei's pack just arrived Tallinn last month. I've been thinking about it for a while now... They have many females, Fenrir and... I'm growing older and I'd like to try and... find a mate..."

"You need no excuse for wanting to leave, Ralf," Fenrir interrupted. "I understand and I wish you the best of luck." The Alpha ripped a piece of bark from a birch tree nearby and approached the fire to pull out a piece of charred branch. On the bark he drew his initials and his family crest in black and handed the makeshift document to Ralf. "Give this to Gotfrei. He will let you in without too many questions."

Ralf took the piece of bark with trembling fingers. "Will you tell Janus...? I'm not really one for goodbyes and all that..." he asked. "I packed my things already, but I didn't think you would..."

"It would be unfair of me to stop you," Fenrir said. "And Janus will understand."

"I know he will." Ralf extended his hand and Fenrir shook it for a moment, then he pulled the other man towards him in a brotherly hug. "Thank you, Fenrir," he said and the Alpha felt everything behind the words. Ralf was grateful not only for the years they had together, but also for the way in which they parted, with understanding. Then Fenrir watched the man gather a small bundle of clothes and possessions he had left near the foot of a tree and disappear deep into the forest, towards the south, without looking behind.

Fenrir gathered the water himself. Crouched near the small hole in the ice, filling bucket after bucket, he didn't notice that his own tears mixing in with the freezing waters.

 

 

Nobody else left and Fenrir was both surprised and grateful. An hour later he was leading his pack south, followed the same path that Ralf had taken. He knew they wouldn't catch up with him though, for he was one wolf and there were fourteen of them, moving at a much slower pace. As they walked, he explained to Janus the reason his uncle had left and, just like he had expected, the boy nodded but said nothing. His silence held the knowledge that he was now the leading figure of his family within the pack, with his father dead and his uncle gone. Eidnar and Ralf had joined Fenrir when they deserted their previous pack, eight years ago after their Alpha's death. They had been powerful, twins, both from werewolf parents. Fenrir regretted the loss of both of them. They had been a strong pillar supporting the pack. Janus knew that this responsibility now rested on his shoulders, much like his ten year old brother, Kosta, whom he carried around on his back through their journey.

That night they set camp in a clearing and built a fire. Fenrir asked Osgar, a strong twenty-nine year old werewolf, to stand guard while the others slept. The man nodded silently and climbed up a tree from where he would see the woods surrounding the camp. Fenrir gathered Loftr and Kolfinn farther away where they built a smaller fire and sat down to discuss the fate of the pack. He decided to let Janus sleep. The boy would need it.

"What are your plans?" Loftr asked. He sat with his wounded leg straightened out in front of him and with quick, precise movements he was sharpening the tip of a branch with a rusted pocket knife. He had, indeed, managed to bring back four _somethings_  with the help of Janus.

"We are going to find another pack," Fenrir announced quietly, his eyes fixed on the flames licking the pieces of wood.

"What do you mean?" Kolfinn asked, rubbing his hands together over the fire.

"I mean that we are going to travel until we find another pack of wolves. Then, I am going to challenge their Alpha, I will win the fight, and our pack will be strong again."

There was no answer, but the carving noises coming from Loftr stopped. When Fenrir raised his eyes, both men were looking at him as if he had just grown an extra head.

"Are you insane?" Kolfinn asked bluntly.

"There's really no other way to recruit werewolves, is there? It's not as if I can nail posters to the trees or put a fucking ad in the papers," Fenrir spitted out, trying to keep his voice quiet so not to wake the others.

Loftr couldn't help but chuckle at the way Fenrir had expressed himself, but also at his hopeless hard-headedness. "Gotfrei's pack is in Georgia, I've heard," he spoke.

"You agree with him?" Kolfinn said disbelievingly, but he knew that when the Alpha had an idea, there was no trying to convince him otherwise. They had seen the danger of such a trait of character the night before though, so Kolfinn thought it best to oppose to the idea anyway, if only to try and point out the flaws in the plan.

"It could work if we find a new pack that hasn't really had time to bond yet, or one with a weak Alpha," Loftr admitted. "That's what Fenrir's father did when he started his own pack. He left and challenged Nikodemus for the control of his pack. They fought at full moon so it was over with quickly. Old Niko wasn't in his prime anymore. I was but a cub when it happened, but I still remember. With the Alpha dead at the hands of another, the pack had no choice but to join the new leader. That's tradition."

Bitten when he was a young adult, there were still some werewolf laws which Kolfinn was unfamiliar with. "So it could work?" he asked, still unsure but more interested.

"It will if I win," Fenrir added. "I know that Gotfrei is in Georgia but I will not challenge him. He is too young and comes from a powerful family which my father had strong ties with. I have no desire to destroy that relationship by bringing shame on Gotfrei. And besides, Ralf is on his way to them and plans on joining the pack. If I arrive shortly after him, it will look as if I sent a scout beforehand. I want to allow Ralf his new beginning. He has served my pack well."

They were silent for a moment, the stillness of the night only broken by soft sleep noises from the others and the crackling of the fire. Then a voice dragged them away from their thoughts.

"Lucan Donegan's pack spends every winter in Lake Baikal." They looked up to see Osgar staring down at them from his perch overlooking the camp. He had been listening quietly to their conversation, probably from the beginning. At the curious glances the guard sent him, he dropped to the ground gracefully.

Osgar had joined the pack a year ago, but still nobody knew much about him, except that he had been turned when he was very young. He had a strong but serene air about him. He longed for solitude but didn't much like the nomad lifestyle and he had wanted a quiet life with quiet people. He assured Fenrir he just thought it was easier to live with a sedentary pack and the formality with which he had explained his intentions made Fenrir trust him. He helped the pack but kept to himself most of the time. He had been one of the men to stay behind when the hunters had attacked and he killed at least two by himself.

"They travel all year long but they settle there in winter," he added as he sat on a tree stump next to the Alpha.

"And you know this how?" Loftr asked. He was still in the process of sharpening that branch, but his interest in the conversation was evident.

"He is your Sire, isn't he, Donegan?" Fenrir asked Osgar then, turning to him. "It makes sense now, that you were turned so young."

"Who's Donegan?" Kolfinn asked, as Osgar simply nodded to confirm the Alpha's affirmation.

"I've heard a lot of people complain about him," Fenrir continued, narrowing his eyes trying to recall. "When I was still a teenager, my father told me that a new Alpha was making a pack.  _Making_  is the correct word because instead of gathering wolves like we usually do, he was turning  _new_  wolves. He chose children, took them young, not much older than ten, I think..." he looked to Osgar who nodded, "taking them away from their families, training them as werewolf warriors." By then Loftr had stopped his sharpening and Kolfinn and him were both gazing at him intently, trying to make sure he wasn't playing them. "There's really not much else that I know. I just know that his name is Donegan.  _Lucan_ , you said?"

"Lucan Donegan. He is from Wicklow, in Ireland," Osgar informed them. "His father was a wolf, but his mother was human. He is a Half-Blood." Fenrir frowned when he heard the term usually referred to by wizards, though no one but him seemed to have noticed. "He gathered his pack mostly in Britain. He took me in Norwich when I was eleven. I was with him until three years ago."

"How come we've never heard of this guy?" Kolfinn asked, astounded that there actually existed a werewolf, an Alpha for that matter, with this kind of behaviour.

"The pack moves around. In the last decade or so they've been travelling around Asia a lot, mostly Siberia. It's large, there's lots of wilderness and not much population. It's hard not to draw attention with a clan that size," Osgar spoke quietly, his hands hovering over the fire. He must have been freezing up there in that tree.

"What  _size_  are we talking about?" Loftr asked.

Osgar thought for a few seconds. "When I left... there were about forty of them, I think."

Kolfinn almost choked. "F... forty? You're shitting us, you are!"

Fenrir did not blame his brother-in-law for now believing Osgar. That had to be the largest pack he had ever heard about. Fenrir considered that he himself had had one of the biggest packs, with twenty-four wolves. His father had twenty-two and he knew Gotfrei had about fifteen, but his pack was still new. This man, this Donegan, had through the years, managed not only to gather, but to turn over forty werewolves?

"What are the stats?" Fenrir asked Osgar, rubbing his chin. That was the wolf way of asking about the strength of a pack.

Osgar explained that, unlike Fenrir's pack, Donegan's wasn't composed of men, women and children alike. And contrary to the Greyback clan, that possessed more born werewolves, Lucan's pack members were all bitten wolves. Unlike born werewolves, or half-blood, the bitten were humans that were selectively turned with the unique purpose of being raised and trained as werewolves. In the Donegan clan, there were thirty-eight of them, all males between the ages of twenty and forty-five, with the exception of Lucan himself who was in his mid-sixties, and an elderly man that he kept around, some sort of shaman. There was only one female.

"And Donegan, is he strong?" Loftr asked, eyeing Fenrir was thoughtfully evaluating the pack.

"He used to be, before he was poisoned. A snake bite somewhere in Mongolia almost did him in, but that shaman he keeps around, Bannock, managed to save him. He's never been very healthy after that." He stopped talking and looked Fenrir up and down. "You could definitely finish him off if you work hard enough. You're bigger than him and stronger but he fights like a son of a bitch."

"And you don't think the rest of the pack would defend him?" Loftr asked again.

Osgar grinned at the three men. It was something they hadn't seen him do often.

"I'm not the only one who wants him gone. I haven't talked to any of the others in three years but I'm sure some of them wish they had found a way out like I did. I think maybe he regrets turning so many of them. He barely manages to keep them in check anymore. They are a wild bunch, really."

There was a hint of a smile on his face as he remembered his fellow pack-mates, as if he remembered a bunch of troublesome but lovable siblings.

"It's just very delicate, you know... He's the Sire and the father of them all. He took them from their families. Most of them don't even know their real name. He's all they have. If there's no Lucan, there's no pack."

"He's clever," Fenrir said finally. "Only a born werewolf is strong enough to lead a pack. If he's the only one, nobody can overthrow him." He rubbed his forehead.

"That's it," Osgar nodded.

"How did you manage to get out?"

"I had enough. I know it's stupid, but I fought with him." He looked down in shame but Fenrir couldn't help but admire his courage. "I thought maybe I could set us all free but I'm not strong enough to kill him. He's a born wolf  _and_  an Alpha. He was furious, but instead of killing me he just told me to leave. I wandered around for two years. I felt like an orphan, I missed the others, I missed my dysfunctional family." He looked at Fenrir then and his voice was honest. "Finding you was the best thing that happened to me. You showed me what a real pack is. I think you're the one they've been waiting for. And if you're searching for a new members to protect your pack, they are definitely the ones you're searching for."

"They go to Lake Baikal, you said?" Loftr inquired, sticking the now sharp branch into the ground and cleaning his pocket knife with a corner of his jacket.

"From November to January, that's where they go," Osgar nodded. "The rest of the year, it's basically impossible to know. If you want to find them, it has to be during that period. Other than that, the territory is too large. It would be like searching for a needle in a haystack. Even finding a scent would be a lucky shot."

"Lake Baikal, that's..." Kolfinn hesitated and then he shook his head. "That's fucking far. It would take us what, six months? We would get there around October. Are you sure you want to go through with it, Fenrir? That's a long way to go."

They waited as the Alpha rubbed the stubble on his chin, thinking hard.

"We might not find another pack that suits our tastes," he added finally. "And if our friend here is right, this one is in need of a new leader. They most likely won't oppose to me challenging their Alpha, which can't be said about every pack. And we are in need of strong members who can defend us and prevent something like what happened last night from happening again. We will go to Lake Baikal. We travel for five days with a two day break in between each streak. We should get there shortly before they arrive."

The discussion was closed and they all decided to get some rest before they started their journey the next day, this time with a destination in mind. Osgar went back up the tree and watched over the pack through the night. Being in charge of a werewolf pack meant that Fenrir was constantly on edge and when he slept he would wake up at the slightest disturbance. It was especially true now, after what happened in Lake Inari, but Fenrir had more trouble sleeping on that night than ever before. And it would be so for the following months, as he planned his next following months, as he planned his next actions and thought of the possible consequences. Let's just say that fate had more in store for him than he ever thought.

 

 

  



	2. The New Pack

**  
**

_"For the strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack."_

\- Rudyard Kipling

 

 

OF THE FOURTEEN wolves who departed from Finland, only eleven made it to Lake Baikal. A young couple left the pack after three weeks. The woman was pregnant and her frail body couldn't take the stress of the journey any longer. They separated from the group, making their way back towards Georgia and Gotfrei's pack, carrying a piece of tree bark marked with the Greyback crest, just like the one the Alpha had given Ralf. He watched them go with a heavy heart, but he understood.

And then in June, one of them died: Viktor, a thirty year old wolf who had been wounded in the attack. Without their healer and in an environment where they couldn't recognise any plants or herbs that might heal his injuries, they couldn't prevent the infection from spreading. They had to cut off his leg in May, but he didn't survive. His death seemed to affect them more than the loss of the nine in Finland, but they were tired and hungry and desperate and the end of the journey seemed so far away. Kolfinn and Osgar dug a hole and they buried him near a small river. They were all ashamed to admit it, but they travelled much quicker after that, with no stretcher to carry.

They reached Lake Baikal in October. Osgar was almost certain that the Donegan pack would arrive from the south and they made a detour towards the north so that Lucan wouldn't smell them. The end of the journey brought with it considerable joy and they celebrated with a large feast.

"Do you know how you're going to do this, Alpha?" Osgar asked Fenrir that night. They were all sitting near the fire, surrounding a bear cub that Janus had caught that afternoon. "What you're going to do with Lucan, I mean," he explained at Fenrir's raised eyebrows.

"I am thinking it over. I have been for the most part of this journey," the man answered. He had barely touched his meat and, as far as Osgar knew, he had barely slept.

"I am sorry that I can't give you any more information," Osgar spoke sincerely. "I don't know what things are like for them now. To tell you the truth, I'm worried," he whispered. "Lucan was furious with me for challenging him. I'm afraid that he might be paranoid and suspect that everyone is out to get him. I'm worried that he might take his anger out on the others." He sighed deeply.

"Is there anyone for you?" Fenrir asked curiously. "Is that why you're so scared? Did you leave a mate behind?"

Osgar smiled softly. "He was never my mate. I laid claim once, but I never owned him. I just wanted to protect him. The others, they can be so... brutal and careless. I cared about him and for some reason I thought he couldn't defend himself, which is foolish, really. So, I went ahead and threatened everyone and I publicly laid claim." Osgar laughed as he remembered the events. "He was furious with me. He was so angry that I would say something like that without his permission. I actually got scared for my life." He laughed some more and Fenrir could only smile. "He's always been so terribly afraid of being trapped, of having to submit himself to someone. I told him that I would never do such a thing, that he would always be free no matter what. I don't think he feels that way about me, but I just want him to be safe. I miss him terribly."

Fenrir stayed silent and his heart grew heavy. He had been having nightmares lately, about Tuomas' body being eaten by coyotes. At the time it seemed like the right thing to do, but now he deeply regretted not having burned him with the others.

"I can only envy you for having someone like that in your life," he said simply to the younger man.

"You shouldn't feel guilty about Tuomas," Osgar whispered, easily guessing what the man was thinking. "The way you felt about him, those feelings can't be controlled. He was taking advantage of you, abusing his privileges. You are a brave man, Alpha, a born leader, with a strong and righteous heart. With all due respect, you deserve better than him."

They were both very uncomfortable with the nature of the conversation and Fenrir nodded curtly as Loftr joined them, grateful to see his second in command sitting down with a dish of fresh meat.

"So this is it, Lake Baikal," the older man said, looking around the dense forest surrounding them. He seemed indifferent to it all.

"It is a nice place," Janus admitted, joining them. "I can understand that they would want to settle, but why here and not somewhere else?"

"The Evenki people from the village," Osgar started, "they are aware of the presence of werewolves in the woods." They all turned to him, startled. "They knew about the legends and when the pack first showed up here, they immediately recognised us for what we were."

"Then please explain to me why the hell they keep coming here?" Loftr asked angrily. He looked ready to stand up right that instant and yell to everyone to pack their things.

"Hush, Loftr," Osgar chuckled. "They were scared at first, but they seemed to get it into their heads that if they brought offerings to the wolves they would be safe, that we wouldn't attack them."

"Wait." Janus was smiling. "You mean the reason the Donegan pack keeps coming back here every winter is because the village people feed them?"

"Mainly, yes," Osgar nodded, smiling back. "The pack travels all year long and in winter it's harder to get food so they settle here and they enjoy the offerings. They kept their part of the bargain though. As far as I know they never attacked anyone from the village. Same goes with the Evenki. They know the pack is large and powerful, they would never dare endanger their own by attacking one of us."

"Well, I suppose if this works we're in for a quiet, cozy winter," Loftr commented, but he still looked suspicious. "What do we do now?" he asked the Alpha.

"Now we wait," was Fenrir's only answer.

And they waited longer than they expected.

 

 

The Donegan pack arrived in Lake Baikal in the middle of the night, in November, two weeks later than they usually did. The three werewolves waited until everyone was asleep, then they left the cave, one after the other, at fives minute intervals, and they met in the clearing. From there they walked for twenty minutes into the woods, in total darkness and total silence. Once they were convinced they were deep enough that nobody from the pack would overhear, they stopped and they made a small fire – not to protect them from the cold, but only big enough so that they could easily see each other's faces. A few minutes passed until one of them spoke.

"He knows," Elwyn said, breaking the ice.

"There's no way that he knows," answered Callan, throwing a warning glance towards his twin brother. "You're tired and you're upset and it's making you paranoid, El. There's no way that he knows." He repeated this last sentence, carefully detaching each word.

"Maybe he doesn't know  _exactly_  what we're planning, but he suspects something. Hagan was picked three times, Cal!  _Three times_! Lucan wants to get rid of him," Elwyn insisted.

"He's testing him," interrupted Callan. "He's underestimated him and now he just wants to see how far Hagan will go."

"Can you stop talking about me as if I'm not there?" the youngest said, his voice sounding slightly hoarse in the cold winter air.

"If he doesn't know anything, how do you explain Loman?" Elwyn asked again, looking at Callan with a defiant glare.

They were silent for a few minutes. They had been walking for two days straight, without rest, with no occasion to speak privately. It was the first time they evoked their friend's recent death.

"Loman was the strongest of us," Callan said quietly. "Lucan just wanted to see if Hagan..." He stopped and looked at the concerned party. "He just wanted to see if you would beat him, too."

"Loman was in on the plan, and so is Hagan," Elwyn added, running trembling fingers through his tangled red hair. "And so were Quinn and Rowan." They fell silent once again, thinking about their lost friends.

"Callan is right, El," said Hagan in a tired voice. He stood up slowly and paced around the twins in an attempt to warm up his frozen feet. He was limping slightly. "Loman was just an experiment. As for Quinn and Rowan, their only use was to satisfy his sadistic needs. He doesn't know anything."

"Why can't he just leave you alone?" the first twin asked, and even though he could not see Elwyn from where he stood, with his back to them, Hagan knew that the redhead was looking in his direction with a desperate look on his face.

"Because he's asked me to be his mate," Hagan confessed, facing the dark forest that surrounded them. The woods were so still he almost felt like they were watching them, spying.

"What did you say?" Callan asked as he stood.

"I said no, of course," the young werewolf said defensively as he turned back to them. "He's asked me three times already. Lucan is going to keep choosing me until I accept, if I don't die first."

"You're not going to die. Just... keep fighting until we get everything together and..."

"I'm not going to just keep killing our brothers, El!" Hagan exclaimed angrily. Then he glanced around and lowered his voice. "I'm going to have to say yes at some point. What if it's you I have to fight next? How would you feel about that?"

"You won't have to say yes," Callan interrupted and they both turned to him. "We can do it tomorrow night. We're ready."

"We're not ready," his brother groaned. "We're one man short."

"We don't have a choice. If we don't do something, he's going to kill us, or worse," Callan added, throwing a worried glance in Hagan's direction. "It's going to happen just like we discussed, nothing complicated. I will do Loman's job along with my own. We've talked it over a million times. We're ready."

 

 

The three months journey from Nepal had not been enough to tire out Lucan and he woke them up at dawn for another fight. They were all so tired that the two wolves chosen barely even noticed what was happening before they stood in the middle of the clearing, facing each other, with Lucan yelling at them.

This madness started almost three years ago, after one of them had the guts to challenge the Alpha. He had been banished from the pack and they were not allowed to speak his name. Two weeks later, Lucan gathered them and said he had an idea for a new game. Since then, he treated his pack like gladiators. At first he picked those of them who showed animosity towards each other, forcing them to settle their differences the "noble" way. Quickly, though, he grew bored with that tactic and started selecting wolves who were close friends, threatening that if they did not fight until one of them was dead, he would personally kill them both. The survival instinct in werewolves was strong, and most of the time they complied. A month ago, however, they had all watched in silence as Quinn and Rowan refused to fight and knelt before the Alpha, announcing that they preferred to die together. They all stood in awe at the cruelty of Lucan, who had pushed the boundaries of his viciousness and selected two mates for his barbarous game.

In three years, they had lost thirteen werewolves that way. At first they had shouted encouragements to the two fighters. They were somewhat convinced that if the fight extended for long enough, Lucan would grow bored and just call it off. That never happened. The fights could last for hours, none of the wolves willing to throw the fatal blow. Nobody cheered that morning either, for the two wolves selected were Callan and Elwyn.

"I'm going down to the lake," Hagan whispered to Maeve, about five minutes into the fight. "I can't watch this."

The petite blonde-haired girl, the only female in the pack, squeezed his hand before he left. He threw a quick glance towards the Alpha, who was too immersed in the fight to notice him leaving. The black-haired wolf disappeared through the large alder trees surrounding the clearing. Alone, he quietly made his way down the hill and over to the peaceful lake, on the very edge of their territory. There, he sat on a large piece of driftwood.

He stared at the still water, thinking about the fight that was taking place, and disgusted at what the pack had become. It was windier in this place than it had been in the woods and he shuddered slightly as the cold seeped in through his thin clothes. He was wearing Callan's shirt, he remembered, looking down at the faded plaid button-down. The garment was slightly larger on him than it was on the redhead werewolf. His own clothes had been soaked the night before and, seeing him shiver, the man whom he grew to consider as an older brother threw him his last clean shirt. If he was to die today, Hagan thought, he would keep wearing this shirt for the rest of his life. But then, if Elwyn was to die instead... He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to imagine a life without one of them. If only he had known, he would have said his goodbyes the night before.

They hadn't believed Elwyn when he expressed his worries that Lucan knew about their plan, but now that Callan and Elwyn were the ones fighting, who could consider him paranoid anymore? The twins loved each other deeply but they would fight until the end. They knew that if they both died, all the work they had done would be pointless because Hagan would never be able to go through with the plan by himself. Lucan already had him carefully under his radar. It was a wonder that he was even able to sneak away from the fight. Hagan held his head in his hands and sighed deeply, staring at the grey pebbles on the ground. If Callan and Elwyn both died that day, there would be no way out.

For the past few months, a group of them had been planning to kill the Alpha. They had seen how it would end up if they were to openly challenge him and they agreed that killing Lucan Donegan in his sleep seemed like the only way to get rid of the old bastard. At first they had carefully laid out a plan to be performed by six people. It had been a clever, ingenious plan putting in place a series of chain actions that would allow them to get close enough to a vulnerable Lucan. Then they lost Quinn and Rowan. They changed the plan to fit four of them. Then they lost Loman and they modified the plan once again for just the three of them. After this day, they would have to figure out how to do it with only two.

Hagan groaned when a throbbing pain erupted in his ribs and back and he stretched his body slightly. He hadn't been given any time to rest since his fight with Loman and even though he had won, he didn't escape unscathed. His whole head still hurt like hell and he was sure a few ribs were broken. The other werewolf had been much older and much bigger than Hagan and he had wanted to live just as much. They were on good terms before, but Loman had seen the previous fights. He knew what Hagan was capable of and he didn't want to be put down by a twenty year old boy.

Hagan didn't react when he heard the muffled crackling of branches on his left. Staying in the same position, with his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the air around him. It was definitely a werewolf who was creeping up on him, but it wasn't Lucan, he was sure of it. Lucan wouldn't make any noise. You could never hear him coming.

"Go away," he simply said, sighing. "I want to be left alone."

There was a moment of silence and he turned towards the intruder to see if they would comply with his request and leave. He was expecting Maeve, but it wasn't her petite form that emerged from the trees. It was another, taller, bigger werewolf. One he hadn't seen in three years.

"Hey kid," the newcomer said with a sad smile.

"Osgar," Hagan said simply, standing up to face his former pack-mate. At first he felt a small flutter of hope erupt inside his heart at the sight of the exiled werewolf, but it died quickly as he remembered what befell the pack after he left. The man hadn't changed much. There was rough stubble on his chin and his ash-blonde hair fell in tangles around his face, almost brushing his shoulders. He was wearing a thick, warm coat that made Hagan shiver with envy. The expression on his face told Hagan he had witnessed what was happening up the hill.

Osgar was visibly disappointed by the younger wolf's reaction. In the silence they could hear distant yells and muffled noises from the fight. "How long has this been going on?" he asked quietly.

"Since you left," Hagan shrugged lazily. He tried to act detached about it but his heart felt terribly heavy in his chest. He had longed for Osgar to come back but now that he was standing before him, the only thing Hagan felt was anger.

"How many...?" Osgar trailed off, his voice heavy with sorrow.

"Thirteen."

They stood facing each other in silence, Osgar still within the trees, a few feet behind the border of the pack's territory.

"You look older," he said to Hagan then, looking him up and down. The younger werewolf was only dressed in a thin shirt and jeans and his shoes were worn out. The only protection he had against the cold was a pair of black fingerless gloves. There was a nasty scar on his left cheekbone and he had a split lip. His black hair was its usual mess. It was blowing slightly in the breeze but part of it stuck to the side of his face with dried blood. He was standing awkwardly, putting his weight on the right side of his body. Osgar felt nauseous as he witnessed the boy's appearance and imagined what could have happened to leave him in that state, but he didn't say anything about it. He knew how Hagan could be about these things. He hated feeling vulnerable. Emerald green eyes stared at him dully. "You're taller than I remember," Osgar said finally.

"What are you doing here, Osgar?" the black-haired wolf asked, sighing.

"I told you I would come back," the older man answered almost indignantly.

"Forgive me but I stopped expecting you long ago," Hagan snapped.

Osgar bowed his head towards the ground in shame. "I couldn't come back alone."

"There are others with you?" Hagan questioned, glancing around at the trees. "Where?"

"They're surrounding the territory. Lucan is too busy to notice. We've been here for am month already, waiting for you to arrive. My Alpha is going to challenge him," Osgar explained.

"Your Alpha?" Hagan said after a long silence, the feeling of betrayal obvious in his voice.

"Fenrir Greyback. I found his pack in Finland."

Just then they heard the whistled signal that indicated Fenrir was ready and Osgar stepped forward, breeching the territory border. Immediately, he reached for Hagan and wrapped his arms around the smaller wolf.

"My God... you're freezing!" Osgar exclaimed and he held the boy tightly against him, rubbing his arms and back to try and warm him up. There was a slight whimper of pain. "Are you hurt?"

"No... I'll be fine." That was all he received as an answer, but he slightly released his hold nonetheless. He felt Hagan's body relax against him and his fingers grip the back of his coat.

"I missed you so much," Osgar said weakly, burying his face into Hagan's soft hair. It smelled of the forest and the wind and the pack. It smelled of home.

"I missed you too," the black-haired wolf finally whispered into his chest, the words barely audible through the thick fabric. "I'm so tired, Osgar..." His voice held distress and pain that were so unlike Hagan that if they had not been alone Osgar would have thought they were coming from someone else. Time had changed Hagan in a way he didn't think possible. But then again, Lucan had the power to bring out the worst in people.

"It's over," he spoke quietly. "Everything will be fine now."

In the distance, the noises from the fight had stopped.

 

 

Callan was the first to notice the stranger enter the clearing. He happened to be looking over his brother's shoulder as he ducked the punch coming his way, and he saw Fenrir step through the trees. He paused and frowned and Elwyn noticed and stopped, thinking his brother was hurt. They had been faking the whole fight up until now, desperately trying to avoid the inevitable, foolishly thinking that if they fought longer, something might come up and save them. But they would have never dared thinking it would actually happen.

" _What are you doing?_  Keep fighting, you  _useless pieces of shit_!" Lucan yelled, his voice hoarse from too much screaming.

He stood from the spot where he had been sitting, on a large rock near the trees, and he strode over to them quickly, swinging his arm and catching Elwyn square on the jaw. The redhead fell to the ground with the force of the hit. Callan growled and lurched at the Alpha, but Lucan wrapped his large hands around Callan's throat and squeezed hard. The younger man got a grip on the Alpha's grey ponytail and pulled, trying to free himself from the choking grip. They struggled for control for a few seconds, but it was obvious that Lucan was winning.

"Let him go!" Maeve called out fearfully when she saw that Callan's lips were slowly turning blue.

"Shut up, bitch or you'll be next!" Lucan growled. Callan fell to his knees, hands gripping Lucan's arms, his fingernails scratching desperately at the Alpha's wrists.

"Let the boy go, Donegan," a cold voice ordered and the pack members turned toward Fenrir Greyback, who had just breeched their territory's border.

Lucan made no move to release the twin, however, and he turned to Fenrir, more furious than ever before. " _Who thefuckdo you think you are_?"

"Fenrir Greyback, Head of the Greyback clan," Fenrir said and Lucan could only look at him with rage.

"He's my gift to you,  _Sire_." The others gasped and a few faces broke into wide smiles when they saw Osgar emerge from the woods, Hagan following a few paces behind him. The moment Lucan sat the banished wolf, he released Callan, who fell to the ground, panting. Hagan rushed forward and immediately knelt next to him. Feeling that it was safe to intervene, Maeve helped them pull an unconscious Elwyn to the side.

"I banished you!" Lucan growled at Osgar. "You have no right to cross our borders! I will kill you for your cheek, boy!"

"I'm afraid you can't do that, Lucan," Fenrir spoke again, walking over to them slowly. "You see, Osgar is one of  _my pack_  now. He is under my protection and as I intend to challenge you, you have no right to touch him unless you win the fight."

Lucan watched as other wolves stepped into the clearing from the trees around them – first Loftr and Kolfinn on the left and Janus on the right. As a born werewolf and an Alpha, Lucan could sense that they were powerful, but he couldn't help but snigger at their number.

"You expect to be able to take me down with five wolves? My whole pack will rip you to pieces before you have a chance to take one more step. Get them, boys!" Lucan growled though gritted teeth, but no one moved.

Fenrir grinned. "You believe that they will protect you, isn't that adorable! Look at them, Lucan. They're afraid of you. They can't wait to be rid of you. They are strong and young and they're stuck with an old senile bastard. You don't expect that they enjoy their situation, do you? So yes, I will take you down and they won't stop me. They are probably just relieved that they won't have to do the job themselves. And since you seem to love one-on-one combats so much, this is the way we'll do it. I think it's time things change around here."

They would have to fight in their human forms, but the full moon was only four days away and they could already feel the growing strength in their bodies, their senses and reflexes heightening. In their wolf forms, it would have been over with quickly, but it was very likely that they would both die, leaving two packs without leaders.

The pack stepped back to give them space. Lucan Donegan laughed one last time, and the fight started.

Fenrir would only admit to himself that it was the hardest fight he had ever had in his life. Not only because Lucan was a more than worthy adversary, but also because of how badly he wanted to win. Those young, strong werewolves would make a great addition to his pack, but most importantly, they would be able to defend the weaker members if something like what happened in Lake Inari was ever to happen again. From the start, Fenrir knew that there was a possibility he could lose, but he wasn't worried. There were strong men in his pack and he knew they would handle things if he died.

The pack watched the fight in silence and awe. Most of them had never even seen another born werewolf in their life, and certainly not another Alpha. The violence and strength of the fight was astounding. After what seemed like hours, Lucan dropped to the ground, but this time he didn't stand up again. Looking down at the lifeless body, Fenrir could see the outline of the broken ribs in the dead Alpha's chest and his face was deformed by the dislocated jaw the last punch had caused. Fenrir himself was far from being in perfect shape and the triumph of the victory was quickly taken away from him when he fell to his knees, his head swimming and his vision turning black. He was aware of two pairs of hands gripping his shoulders before everything went black.

 

 

He swam in and out of consciousness for an undetermined period of time. He remembered seeing an old man with a long beard and dirty hair and hearing Yrsa's voice calling his name a few times. When he finally woke up, he was in a warm cave, wrapped in thick animal furs. There was a small fire crackling nearby and Loftr was sitting by his side.

"Hey there," his friend said, a small smile on his face. "You've been out for two days."

Fenrir groaned, trying to sit up. His body didn't ache as much as he expected.

"How do you feel?" Loftr asked curiously.

"Surprisingly good," Fenrir admitted, stretching his arms and neck.

"That old shaman, Bannock, has been in and out of here, pushing potions and stuff down your throat for two days. He said it would make you as good as new. I didn't quite believe him, but I suppose he was right."

"How is the pack?" Fenrir asked then, remembering the fight and how bad the members of Donegan's pack had looked.

"Our people are worried about you, but we assured them you were getting better and would be up and running in no time. As for Donegan's... well, a few of them were in bad shape. Apparently Bannock wasn't allowed to heal them. Lucan thought it would toughen them up. But they are all healthy now. That old man works miracles. Kolfinn and Osgar went to the village this morning. They talked to the chief and explained the situation. The Evenki gave us warm clothes for the pack. Some of them had nothing more than what they were wearing." Fenrir growled angrily. If he hadn't already killed the Alpha, he thought he could probably do it again. "They've all been waiting for you to wake up, for instructions. They don't completely understand what you're expecting of them and the full moon is tomorrow."

When Fenrir came out of the cave, he couldn't help but be startled by the sight that greeted him. A large fire had been built in the centre of the clearing and the pack members sat here and there, talking and laughing. There was an air of glee floating around as the two packs got to know each other. He saw Alva, Yrsa and Kolfinn's seven year old daughter, getting what looked like a particularly enjoyable piggy-back ride from one of the redheaded twins who had been fighting when Fenrir challenged Lucan. The little girl's piercing laugh echoed around the clearing and brought smiles to many faces. Janus was in deep conversation with a small blonde girl from the Donegan pack and Osgar was sitting under a large birch tree, talking quietly with a dark-haired youth. Fenrir recognised him as the one who had emerged from the woods with Osgar two days ago and he supposed that was the boy on whom Osgar had laid claim a few years before. As if feeling Fenrir's eyes on him, the young werewolf looked up suddenly and their eyes met. The Alpha's breath caught in his throat and he quickly turned his head away, whistling for the pack's attention.

Everyone was silent and they turned towards the cave's entrance, awaiting their Alpha's first speech.

"Six months ago," he started, "I was the Alpha of a pack of twenty-four wolves. We had been residing in northern Finland for more than ten years when one of our members attacked a human from a nearby village. They sent hunters and nine of us were killed, men, women and children alike." The members of the Donegan pack listened respectfully to the tale, glancing at each other now and then. "My pack was reduced to half its size, but this was nothing compared to the pain of losing our loved ones and having to flee our home. It was Osgar who told me about your pack and your Alpha and I decided to come all this way to challenge him and give you all a chance for a better life. I expect from you protection for the weaker members of the pack and in return you will have my protection. I will never expect you to fight each other or hurt the people you love. You can come to me with any problem you have or anything that troubles you. You will never be denied shelter, care, food or warm clothes. You will always be safe within my pack."

And that is how Fenrir Greyback became Alpha to the largest werewolf pack of the continent. He was responsible for thirty-seven wolves, himself included: thirty men, four women and three children. With a pack this size, Fenrir realised that he needed to establish a new guard.

First, he would keep his two guards, Loftr and Kolfinn. Loftr was six years older than Fenrir and had been a member of this father's pack. When Fenrir left to gather his own pack, Loftr was sent along to assist him. Only born werewolves could lead a werewolf pack, but if there was only one bitten in the whole world who could accomplish such a feat, Fenrir was convinced it was Loftr. Fenrir trusted him with his life, and the same went for Kolfinn. Then he selected two other wolves from his old pack. He picked Janus, because his father had trained him well and his family's status owed him a place in the hierarchy. That night at the feast, he approached Osgar.

"You've lead us here. Without you this would not have been possible. You have helped us immensely those past few months, but I want you to join the guard officially and help protect what we built with your help, if you are willing."

"Of course, I will," the man said with a smile. Fenrir couldn't help but notice how much Osgar had changed since they had arrived in Lake Baikal, and even more since he was reunited with his family. He was positively radiant and he laughed all the time. The Alpha thought it probably had to do with the dark-haired boy he was constantly seen with.

"I also need your advice," Fenrir continued, gesturing for him to follow as they walked away from the others. "I need a bigger guard and I don't want to discriminate. I'm going to pick four wolves from Donegan's pack. They know each other inside and out so I will ask them to select four people who they would trust with their lives to protect the pack and I'm going to take the four whose names are repeated the most. But I would appreciate your opinion on the final decision."

Osgar nodded and they made the vote that same night. The first chosen were Callan and Elwyn, twenty-eight year old twins who had been bitten at age then and trained as hunters. Together, with their skill and strength, they could apparently take down the largest beasts and bring back enough meat to feed the pack for days. He agreed with the selection when Osgar expressed his enthusiasm. Once he met them formally, Fenrir was even more convinced they were the men for the job. He had witnessed them fight briefly before he challenged Lucan, and even though they had been faking the whole thing, he knew they were strong and brave.

Another name that came back fairly often was that of Edmon. He was a forty year old warrior who won many of the fights Lucan had imposed on the pack. He was one of the strongest, Osgar explained, but it was obvious on his face that he didn't like the man much. Fenrir decided to trust his judgement and crossed out the name on the list.

"Why did you do that? I admit that I don't like the guy, but he's one of the strongest," Osgar said.

"We have plenty of strength already," Fenrir replied, jerking his head towards Callan and Elwyn, who were showing off their muscles to a laughing Janus. "It is wits and intelligence that we lack."

There were protests from the rest of the guard, but the playful fight ended in laughter. Fenrir shook his head. He couldn't believe how differently the whole pack behaved.

Instead of Edmon, they chose Maeve, the only girl of Lucan's pack. Fenrir was surprised that her peers had selected her, for werewolves tended to be a rude crowd of misogynistic jerks. However, they had been raised with her and they claimed that she was one of the best fighters of them all, her size and rapidity making her a deadly little thing. Fenrir also thought that a touch of femininity would benefit the guard.

The last selected was Hagan. The pack claimed that he had won the tree fights he had been forced to take part in – a feat none of them had expected. He was also a fine strategist, Callan and Elwyn explained to Fenrir. They told him the three of them had been planning an assassination on Lucan and the whole of the operation had been designed mainly by Hagan. Fenrir was impressed and sent for him. He was surprised to see that Hagan was the boy Osgar was constantly seen with. He was a twenty year old, soft-spoken young man, with hair as dark as night and eyes the colour of the forest leaves in summer. As Fenrir welcomed him into the guard, he couldn't help but think that even if Hagan hadn't been one of the best fighters of the clan, he might have chosen him anyway, if only to be able to look at him all day long.

 

 


	3. Hagan

 

_"Wolves may feature in our myths, our history and our dreams, but they have their own future, their own loves, their own dreams to fulfill."_

-Anthony Miles

 

 

FENRIR HAD ALWAYS thought that other than in a fight, the night of the full moon was the best way to tell the born and the bitten wolves apart. The difference started with the way they faced the transformation, the way their body stood as they waited for the inevitable. In a way, the bitten wolves never got used to it. Even when turned young, they had known a world without pain. The born wolves would brace themselves, grit their teeth and breathe in deeply, eyes locked on the shining clouds that hid their Mother Moon, who had watched and cursed them from the moment they came into the world. The bitten would sometimes close their eyes or look to the ground, but they simply waited, powerless. They were like mistreated dogs awaiting a violent punishment they knew would come.

There was silence as they all stood in the clearing, shivering in the cold, with their heads turned to the sky. The transformation started as soon as the first sliver of moon appeared from behind the clouds. As always, the born wolves were the first to feel it. Groans of pain and discomfort filled the air for a few seconds and then together they all fell to their knees, like some religious cult pleading to the moon, except that the sounds coming from their mouths were not prayers, they were not even words. Screams were all that filled the air and then all hell broke loose. Amongst the cries, the moans and the gurgles of pain you could hear the cracking of bones as they broke and reformed, as humans turned into wolves.

It was a generally acknowledged fact that the transformation was more painful for the bitten wolves, but Fenrir would never know. Truthfully, he couldn't imagine how anybody else's pain could be more intense than the one he himself was feeling. And it never crossed his mind to ask because the transformation process wasn't a subject that many werewolves were comfortable talking about. If they did though, they would disagree on many points.

Kolfinn thought that the worst part was feeling his own heart stop and shrink inside his chest. It wasn't the most painful thing about the whole process but it was so unnatural that it scared him shitless every time. Hagan would disagree and side with Loftr who thought that there was nothing scarier than feeling his spine bend and snap, his vertebras fall apart and fuse again in a new position. Callan thought the most disturbing thing was his fingers and wrists that broke at the joints and his fingers and wrists that broke at the joints and curled inward as his paws were formed. Elwyn would argue with his brother, saying that for him it was the bones of his ribcage expanding and slicing through the skin that scared him the most. Osgar thought the most painful thing of all was how his jaw would clench so tightly that it popped out of place and how his fangs broke through his gums as his mouth filled with blood and he couldn't even scream out his pain because his vocal cords were shredded. For Maeve, it would always be the brief glimpse, just before she fell unconscious, of the coarse fur growing all over her body, so thick that it came out bloody, tearing her skin apart.

The transformation process was generally over in under a minute, but it felt like hours. The bitten wolves lost consciousness for a few seconds and the clearing filled with silence. Then all the wolves would wake and stand and raise their heads towards the sky and together, they would howl at the moon in a mix of love and hate.

 

 

Fenrir woke the next morning to the familiar smell of the forest and the feel of wet leaves under his cheek. He shivered slightly as his body became aware of both the cold of the November morning and the fresh lacerations on his chest and back. A few feet from him, Loftr was still sleeping, his breathing coming out ragged and the Alpha figured this must have been what woke him up. The older werewolf wheezed and shuddered in his sleep.

He sat up and looked around at the others sleeping nearby. He hated sleeping in late but he had been incredibly stressed out the night before. He had never seen how the new members acted on a full moon and he hadn't known what to expect. Besides, even though he would never admit it to anybody, he still felt somewhat weak from his fight with Lucan. If he had slept that much, it was probably that he needed it.

He noticed that the bags of clothes had been lowered from the trees. They rested on the ground around them. The ropes that had been holding them up were still dangling and swaying lightly in the morning wind. Groaning, Fenrir stood and approached the closest bag, taking a pair of grey jersey plants and pulling them on to hide his nudity. The bodies around him had felt uncomfortably warm and sweaty. The fever from the transformation had yet to diminish and despite the cold temperature, they would all be walking half-naked for the most of the day.

"Fenrir, you're up," Janus said as he approached the Alpha. He was coming from the lake and heading towards the caves where the women and children had spent the night.

"Who's on guard this morning?" Fenrir asked.

"The first ones to wake, as always..." He lowered his voice and leaned towards the Alpha. "I think Loftr is faking it so he doesn't have to help. He's way too noisy to be realistic, the lazy bastard." He chuckled before he continued. "There's me and Kolfinn is making rounds and there's... I don't remember his name... Osgar's mate..."

"Hagan," Fenrir groaned.

"That's it, Hagan. He's down at the lake gathering water if you want to make yourself useful," Janus said jokingly.

"Show a little more respect, Wolfboy," Fenrir warned dryly as he slapped Janus behind his head and the younger wolf walked away, laughing. "Picked a hell of a time to start acting his age," Fenrir muttered, watching him disappear towards the caves.

He knew the reason Janus was in such a good mood was because he was finally able to interact with kids his age. He had been raised with older men and younger children and had been forced to help the pack from the time he could walk. Now the carefree and immature nature of some of the young bitten wolves was rubbing off on him.

Fenrir looked around at the sleeping wolves and caught sight of Osgar's mess of blonde hair on the other side of the clearing. He was still sleeping, curled up on himself. There was an empty spot next to him where Fenrir could guess that Hagan had been lying earlier. He repressed a growl, wondering why that thought bothered him so much, and he walked away from the clearing towards the steep hill leading down to the lake side.

He could remember seeing the large, pale and familiar wolf form of Osgar running around with a smaller black wolf last night but he had been too busy supervising the numerous playful fights that were taking place to pay attention to two wolves who seemed content just to race each other through the forest. Yet another difference between the born and the bitten wolves was that the born had more control over their wolf part and could easily remember what happened during the full moon. The next morning, most of the bitten wolves had trouble remembering what had happened to them when in their wolf forms. For them it felt like a long dream with vague details and many blurry parts, like after a night of heavy drinking.

Because he couldn't afford to pay attention, Fenrir hadn't noticed exactly what Hagan's wolf form looked like, apart from the jet black colour of the fur. His human form, however, was truly a thing of beauty, Fenrir thought as he approached the boy. He was wearing nothing but a pair of pants not unlike his own, but of a navy blue colour that contrasted heavily with the paleness of his skin. He was barefoot, crouching on the ground and using the water from one of the buckets he had filled to wash the dirt away from his body. Fenrir watched the graceful curve of his spine as the boy shifted slightly and turned to face him.

"Alpha," he said in greeting. He stopped what he was doing, almost as if he was waiting for instructions from Fenrir. Water droplets dripped from his hair to his cheeks as he stared at the older man.

"You are a member of the guard, Hagan. You've earned the right to call me by my name." He kept his voice soft as he spoke, trying not to stare at the scars on the young werewolf's face and the dark bruises around his ribs. All he received was a nod from the boy, but still Hagan didn't move. Fenrir sniffed the air then, a peculiar smell hitting his nostrils. "What's that?"

Hagan opened his hand. He was holding a white bar of soap and small bubbles dripped down his arm as he raised it towards the Alpha. "Osgar brought it back from the village."

"A fine luxury," Fenrir commented with a small smile. "It's been years since I've seen one of those."

"Take it," Hagan offered. "I'm done with it." He stood up and Fenrir found that he was more than a full head taller than the boy, who was only coming up to his collarbone.

He made no move to take the object. "No, I... If Osgar gave it to you, I couldn't possibly..." he confessed, searching for the right words.

"It wasn't a  _courting gift_ , if that's what you're implying," Hagan snapped and the words came out almost with disgust as a deep frown formed on his face. "It's just a bloody bar of soap. Take it." He grabbed one of Fenrir's large hands and plopped the soap into it. Then he rubbed the back of his neck embarrassingly and threw the Alpha a quick glance before turning his back to him and going back to filling the remaining water buckets.

Fenrir should have been angry at the boy for talking to him this way, but he couldn't find it in him to even raise his voice at Hagan. The day before, he had talked to Bannock, the old shaman who had healed him after the fight, and had been given a report on the pack's health. Hagan's name came back a few times. He had it rough in the past, the old man said. Lucan always had a particular interest in him. He had been healed completely, but the scar from the broken cheekbone his last fight earned him would remain, flawing his perfect features. Bannock admitted he lacked certain ingredients for the making of potions and salves that could help heal wounds properly. Fenrir promised him he would do everything he could to find a way to provide those.

"I thought... I was under the impression that Osgar was your mate..." he said to the young man.

"Did  _he_  tell you that?" Hagan's voice was angry but there was an edge to it that bordered on panic. He set the newly filled bucket on the ground and stared back at the Alpha expectantly.

"No, but you've been spending a lot of time together and the wolves like to talk."

"Well they shouldn't talk of things they know  _nothing_  about," Hagan said, his jaw clenched in irritation. "And  _people_  shouldn't believe things unless they hear it from the source," he added reproachfully, looking the Alpha straight in the eye.

Fenrir was astounded. It was so rare that one of his wolves would speak and act this way around him that he was too shocked to be angry. He remembered what Osgar had told him about that time he publicly claimed Hagan and they way the younger wolf had reacted and threatened him. He couldn't help it and his face broke into a grin and he chuckled. Hagan didn't seem to like this reaction, however, and suddenly the boy stood as tall as he could and narrowed his eyes at the older man.

"What's so funny?" he spat defiantly and just then Fenrir couldn't help but notice how breathtaking the young werewolf was. He stood, staring at him furiously as the morning wind picked up and swept his black hair around his pale, bruised face. He looked like a wounded warrior looking bravely at his tormentor.

"Don't get mad," Fenrir said, wiping the smile from his face as to not infuriate the boy further. "I'm not used to my wolves speaking to me this way and you caught me by surprise."

To say that Hagan's expression changed drastically would be an understatement. Immediately upon hearing the words, he seemed to remember his place and his head bowed towards the ground. He barely managed to look up as he spoke. "I apologise," he said softly.

"I didn't mean to offend you, Hagan," Fenrir said, shaking his head. "You're allowed to speak your mind. I stand by what I told everyone two days ago. You can talk to me about anything you want. I will always listen." Especially to you, he thought, but he didn't say those words out loud. "However..." He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "I don't know yet how exactly things worked with Donegan or if he tolerated such impudence, but I don't. You will speak to me respectfully in the future."

There was a tensed silence and he heard Hagan let out a shuddering breath that came out in a small cloud of mist. When he finally spoke, all emotion seemed to have vanished from his face, but Fenrir could still detect a small flicker of something in his eyes, like shame or maybe a very well-hidden fear. "I was out of line. What should I do as punishment?"

He was looking at the Alpha with his head held high but his shoulders were tensed and he blinked more often than necessary. Fenrir sighed and approached him. The boy didn't step back but recoiled slightly at the older man's closeness.

"Did you not listen to what I said the other day?" he asked and he had to stop himself from cupping the boy's face in his hands. He thought if he did the young werewolf would surely lash out at him. "I said I would never deny you anything. Why would I punish you when I swore to protect you?" He had talked generally then, but somehow his words now seemed directed specifically at Hagan.

"I don't know about the others, but it will take more than sweet words to win me over, Alpha," the boy spoke. He kept his words soft as he carefully tried to speak his mind without offending the powerful man before him. "I know people like you and I know what they are like."

Fenrir snorted bitterly. "Are you comparing me to Lucan?" he demanded, raising his voice.

"He was like you in the beginning. He was noble and he would speak words that made you want to believe him and follow him." He paused and looked carefully at his new Alpha. "Power changes even the best of men."

"I am nothing like him," Fenrir spoke fervently.

"I wouldn't know, would I?" Hagan said softly. "But Osgar trusts you and I said I would give you a chance."

Fenrir took his hand and gave back the bar of soap, closing the boy's fingers gently around it. "I swear I will not disappoint you."

When he raised his eyes to stare back into the boy's face, he caught sight of something peculiar. There was another scar he hadn't noticed, hiding behind the mess of hair falling onto the boy's forehead. But just then the wind brushed the dark strands aside and he glimpsed it.

"Your scar..." he said in astonishment. Hagan removed his hand from the Alpha's grip and stepped back, flattening his hair, but it was too late. Fenrir had seen the scar, the thin lightning bolt marring his forehead.

"Hagan!" Osgar called out as he came down the hill. He was wearing pants like theirs and an old t-shirt with a music band on it.

Hagan threw a warning glance towards the Alpha and Fenrir easily understood what the look meant.  _You haven't seen anything_.

"What's happening here?" Osgar asked as he reached them. He was smiling but somehow it didn't reach his eyes as he looked directly at Fenrir.

"Nothing," Fenrir asked, holding Osgar's gaze. "We were simply talking."

"Right you were. Just talking," Osgar repeated, still smiling. There was a moment of tensed silence during which the two men looked at each other. Hagan sighed and cleared his throat loudly. Both men turned to him questioningly.

"Now if you two are done with your staring contest, I would appreciate it if you could help me carry these up to the camp?" he asked with feigned politeness as he gestured to the six buckets filled with water. Fenrir nodded solemnly, picked up two of them and turned slowly, climbing up the hill towards the clearing, troubled by what he had just discovered. Before he left he heard Hagan whisper fiercely. "Do  _not_  start this again, I'm warning you..."

"Start what?" Osgar asked as soon as Fenrir disappeared up the hill.

"Being all possessive on me! I won't go through this all over again. I thought I made myself clear," Hagan insisted, pocking Osgar in the chest with every word. His eyes were shooting daggers.

Osgar caught the younger wolf's hand in his and pulled him closer. "Haven't you seen the way he was looking at you?" he hissed angrily.

"Yes, but it's none of your business!" Hagan pulled away easily. "You don't own me, Osgar!"

"You didn't seem to think that way the night after I returned..." Osgar smirked.

By then Hagan was literally fuming. "It was nothing! It was just one kiss and it won't happen again! The potions Bannock gave me clouded my head and you took advantage!"

"Yes, right..." Osgar snorted, reaching out to pull Hagan against him but once again the younger wolf pushed him away.

"It's never going to happen, Osgar. I told you a hundred times! I won't be your mate!" Hagan sighed frustratingly. He was getting tired of saying the same things over and over again.

"If you think I'm going to let you go to Greyback..." Osgar spat threateningly.

"It doesn't matter if it's him or anyone else, Osgar! It's  _not for you to decide_!" Hagan yelled.

"If it's not me, then it will be  _no one_ ," Osgar said just as angrily, but there was a hint of panic in his voice.

Hagan looked at him in silence and his next words came out softly. "Don't threaten me, Osgar, because you won't like the outcome of it. I'm not the same person I was when you left."

"I know," Osgar muttered, caressing Hagan's cheek with the back of his hand.

"You know I can defend myself," Hagan said, removing Osgar's hand from his face but holding it in both of his own. "The others never took me seriously. They always thought that because I was the youngest in the pack I couldn't defend myself and I had to be protected. I had to kill three men for them to see me for what I am worth. When will  _you_  see me?"

"I was the  _first_  to see you. Don't ever doubt that," Osgar insisted, cupping the back of Hagan's neck with his free hand and caressing the soft black hair. "I can't stand the thought of anyone else touching you, especially not Greyback..."

"Two days ago you all but praised him, constantly pestering me about how your Alpha is such a noble admirable man. What happened to trusting him?"

"I don't trust anyone when it comes to you. Didn't I tell you about the boy that he chose for his mate six months ago?" He whispered, staring intently in Hagan's large green eyes. "Did I tell you what he did to him the moment he stepped out of line? He snapped his neck just like that, as if it were a mere twig, or a hanging branch that stood in his way. Did I tell you that?"

"Yes," Hagan mumbled.

"He is a good Alpha, Hagan, and a good leader, better than Lucan could ever be. But who could do that to his mate?" Osgar whispered.

"I don't know." Hagan's voice sounded weak even to his own ears.

Osgar let his hands caress the skin of Hagan's naked back. "Now you understand," he said as he pressed their foreheads together. "You and me, that's all there is. I only need you, and you only need me."

"I don't  _need_  anyone," Hagan said more firmly, pulling away.

"Really? And what if I hadn't returned?" Osgar whispered, as if afraid to consider that possibility. "What would have happened to you then?"

"I would have fought," Hagan said boldly.

"You would have died," Osgar whispered. "Lucan would have killed you. He wouldn't have let you refuse him any longer. You know he was so much stronger than you. He would have gotten rid of you." Osgar brushed the dark hair from Hagan's forehead and gently caressed the lightning shaped scar with the tip of his fingers. "He might have given you to them..."

"Don't talk about that!" Hagan hissed, looking around to check if anyone had heard.

"They're searching for you," Osgar said urgently, reaching out to grab Hagan's hands but the younger wolf pulled away once again. "After I was banished, I heard people talking in the villages and the pubs. You don't know how bad it is in Europe. The old man is dead, the one who came for you years ago. The Dark Wizards murdered him. Now they've taken over and they know that you're alive, that you're one of us. They will look everywhere for you." Hagan looked at him silently for a long while, the words slowly sinking in. Osgar's expression was desperate. "I had to find a way to come back. I had to protect you."

"You can't protect me, not from them," Hagan said, his face expressionless as he picked up two buckets of water and headed for the hill. "If they come for me there's nothing you can do."

"They'll have to kill me first," Osgar spoke fiercely.

"Then they will." And Hagan fell silent as he climbed up towards the clearing.

 

 

_The wolves turned by Lucan Donegan had been told not to think about their lives from before. It wasn't that hard because most of them didn't remember much of it anyway. But for some reason, Hagan remembered. Sometimes it came in flashes. Someone would say a word or use a phrase that reminded him of a particular moment or memory and everything came flooding back, like a dam had busted open inside his head._

_He wasn't even called Hagan back then and he remembered that he didn't have any parents. He had lived with relatives before but he couldn't remember his aunt's name. He thought it started with a T, but it might have been a P. He just wasn't sure anymore. His uncle he remembered was called Vernon. He was sure of it. He remembered the large, red face as the man threw him into a small space, a cupboard that served as his bedroom. He remembered the pristine white of the kitchen and how he was only ever allowed to eat the scraps of the food his family ate. He was sent to school in clothes that were too large for him and broken glasses and he was laughed at for that reason. He couldn't remember having any friends there, in his previous life. In fact, he couldn't remember having anyone._

_When he was six he met a strange man at the playground. Hagan thought it was weird that the man was shirtless even though it was somewhat chilly outside. He had been sitting on the swing set in the centre of the darkening park when the stranger approached him silently._

" _Are you alone?" the man asked._

" _Yes," Hagan answered timidly._

" _You're quite young to be left alone. Where's your family?"_

" _They have guests for dinner and they hate having me in the way. They told me to stay here and come back when there's no more traffic on the street over there," the little boy said, pointing his small finger towards the freeway._

_The man nodded and he sat down on a swing next to Hagan. He had long brown hair tied down in a ponytail. Hagan thought that if Uncle Vernon were to see him, his face would turn green with disgust. "Aren't you scared?" the man asked._

" _No," Hagan said, but his voice sounded weak._

" _Don't you miss your family?" The man's voice was soft in a way not many people had used when talking to him._

" _No. Should I?"_

" _Yes, you should. Don't you love them?"_

_Hagan looked at his feet, which barely touched the ground as he sat on the swing. "I love them, but I don't think they like me very much."_

" _That's not right. Your family should love you," the strange man announced distractedly as he dug a small hole with his boot in the sand underneath the swing._

" _Does your family love you?" the little boy asked timidly._

" _They do. They love me very much, and I love them very much too."_

" _Do you have a big family?"_

" _Yes, a very, very big family," the man explained. "The biggest family you've ever seen. I have many sons, but only one daughter."_

" _You left them alone, too," Hagan said reproachfully._

" _Oh, they're not very far from here." The man smiled reassuringly. "They're very strong and they are not scared when I leave them alone."_

" _They're not as strong as me!" Hagan announced proudly._

" _No, of course not," the man chuckled. "My name is Lucan," he said and he held out his hand to Hagan, something no grown-up had ever done. Shyly, he put his small hand into it and the man shook it lightly._

" _That's a cool name," Hagan complimented him._

" _Thank you. What's your name?"_

" _Harry," Hagan answered, sounding disappointed._

" _You don't like your name?"_

" _My aunt says it's a very ordinary name," he said, shrugging._

" _If you could choose your name, what would it be?"_

_Hagan frowned. "I don't know..." He thought for a moment. "Penfold!" he said excitedly._

" _Penfold?"_

" _Like in Danger Mouse. He has glasses like me..." When the man showed no sign that he understood, Hagan explained, "It's a television program. I get to watch it sometimes."_

" _Oh," the man said, but it didn't seem to Hagan like he really understood at all._

_There was a moment of silence before the little boy asked, "Do you think that the traffic will be gone soon? I'm cold."_

_The man shook his head. "I think it's only going to be gone in a few hours... You know, Harry, I go by here sometimes and I've seen you here almost every day." His voice was softer than before._

" _My aunt and uncle don't like to have me around," the little boy answered, staring at the ground._

" _I was wondering if you would like to join my family, Harry. We would sure like to have you around."_

" _You would?"_

" _Of course. We need someone as strong as you and you would have lots of brothers and a sister. Wouldn't you like that?"_

" _Yes, I guess." Hagan shrugged shyly as he answered but with those words his life changed._

_When Hagan discovered that Lucan's family was in fact a pack of werewolves, he was incredibly frightened. He said he had changed his mind and wanted to go home, but Lucan would have none of that so he tried to run. He remembered dashing through the trees as fast as his small legs could carry him, his breathing laboured and painful, branches hitting him in the face. He could hear running behind him and then he collided against something hard and warm. A boy from the pack stood before him, looking down at Hagan with a sad look on his face._

" _You don't have a choice," he said softly. "It'll be easier if you just give in."_

_That was the night he was turned, and Hagan remembered every second of it. The ground felt hard and spiky with stones under his bony back and he remembered the strong and sweaty smell of Lucan as he settled on top of him, baring his teeth and growling deeply. Hagan had been so scared that he turned his head away and stared at the sky instead. The moon and the starts were hiding and suddenly he could understand why._

 

_  
_

Osgar woke up when he felt the thick bear fur shift and a draft of cold air whip his body.

"What are you doing?" he groaned sleepily.

"Nature calls," Hagan whispered as he crawled from underneath the fur that covered them both. Osgar groaned again at the loss of warmth.

"Just make it quick," he mumbled, grabbing the fur and pulling it tightly against his body.

Shivering, Hagan slipped on his shoes, trying not to wake anyone else. The very dim light he could see outside the cave told him that the sun was setting. The fever from the transformation was gone and as soon as he detached himself from Osgar's embrace he felt like he had just fallen into a pool of icy water. The fire in the centre of the cave had died. He fumbled around and borrowed Osgar's jacket that he slipped on top of a thick sweater before making his way towards the exit, doing his best not to step on anyone. Some of the wolves were shivering as they slept. Some of them didn't even have any furs to cover their bodies and they had to use many layers of clothes to keep warm, but most of them shared, just like Osgar did with him.

They had slept all day, as they always did the day after the transformation. They would clean up and eat a good meal and then they would go back to the caves and sleep off the soreness and the pain. Hagan had woken many times, plagued by strange dreams of people whispering his name in the darkness. Then he'd happened to stare towards the entrance of the cave and he saw the silhouette of the Alpha passing by. He thought now was the best time to try and talk to the man alone.

Dreams were also what woke up Fenrir, one dream in particular. When he wasn't harassed by Tuomas' dead body, it was Ravn that he saw. In this dream, Fenrir walked through the forest in Lake Inari. The woods were silent and still, almost as if something was waiting. He came upon his nephew's body like he had months before, and knelt next to him. Ravn's mangled face and unseeing blue eyes turned towards him and then he whispered, in a voice not quite his own, "You should have stopped it."

"Alpha?" Fenrir turned to see Hagan emerge from one of the caves. The boy approached him almost hesitantly and the Alpha already knew what he was going to say next. "Can I talk to you?"

Fenrir nodded and, knowing what the conversation would be about, he led Hagan away from the camp. They walked in silence into the woods. The low light from the setting sun was flashing lazily between the trees, casting shadows all around them. They stopped and sat on a fallen tree trunk. There was a moment of silence before Fenrir spoke. "Your name really isn't Hagan, is it?"

"It is now," the young werewolf answered, staring blankly at the trees in front of him. "Harry Potter died fourteen years ago. How do you know about him?"

"The Greyback family is of werewolf lineage but used to belong to the magical community. My father left the Wizarding world after the Dark Wizard Grindelwald tried to take over and he started his own pack. Are you familiar with Grindelwald?"

"No. I don't know much about Wizarding history. Lucan took me from my family when I was six and I had never been told any of this. Then when I was eleven, a strange letter arrived, delivered by an owl," Hagan recalled, narrowing his eyes as he remembered.

"Hogwarts?" Fenrir guessed easily.

"Yes, what a strange name for a school. We were settled in Ireland then. Nobody here knew anything about magic, not even Lucan. He thought it was a joke from someone in the pack and we decided to ignore it. Then a few weeks later, two men came. One of them was a wolf, the other an old man."

"Albus Dumbledore?" Fenrir still received some newspapers sometimes. His older brother had ties with the Wizarding world and informed Fenrir of any major developments. He had seen the face of the old Headmaster of Hogwarts quite often in the latest years. The news of his death two years ago had been on the front page for weeks.

"Yes, I think that was his name, but I don't remember what the other man was called."

"They tried to take you away?"

"Yes, but Lucan refused. They argued for a long time. The old man kept saying that I had to come back, that I was destined to help win a great war. Lucan said that the werewolf laws were stronger and as my Sire he had the right to make all the decisions concerning my life. Finally they decided to ask me. They put me on the spot and I didn't know what to say. Everything sounded so ridiculous to me, so unreal. I said I wanted to stay." Hagan kept his eyes on the ground as he continued quietly. "Lucan was never the same with me after that." He hesitated. "I don't know what it was... Maybe he was shocked and angry to discover that they existed, that there was something out there definitely stronger than him. Or maybe he seemed to think that it had all been too easy and that they would come back for me. I'll never know for sure but one day, when he considered that we were all old enough to travel, he had us pack our things and we left the camp. We never stopped moving after that, but we always stayed for three months here in Lake Baikal. I think most of us consider it home."

The sky was now of a dark blue colour and Fenrir realised he hadn't even noticed it getting this dark. There was only a small strip of yellowish sky above the ground and it cast a strange golden glow on the trees around them.

"You never learned magic?" Fenrir asked curiously.

"No, but accidents happen sometimes," Hagan said curtly and it was obvious to the Alpha that he didn't really want to talk about himself anymore. "Do  _you_  practice it?"

"I used to have a wand but I never used it and I lost it somewhere," Fenrir admitted, shrugging. "My mother would spin in her grave if she knew, but I never really took to it. She did her schooling before she mated with my father and joined his pack. Most wolves don't really like anything that has to do with wizardry and it's hard for wizard werewolves to fit in without giving up magic. Like you said, wolves don't like knowing that there's something stronger than them out there. It's bullshit if you asked me. There are plenty of things stronger than wolves." He thought about the hunters in Lake Inari.

"So you're not angry about all this?" Hagan asked after a long moment of silence.

"Why would I be angry?" Fenrir frowned, wondering where this was going.

Hagan looked at him with a confused look on his face. It was the first time the boy looked him in the eyes since they had started the conversation. "I'm putting your pack in danger. They will be searching for me."

Fenrir nodded and then he understood the situation Hagan's real identity put them in. He could tell why the boy was worried and truthfully, he was worried himself but he thought it would be a bad idea to show it. He decided to calm Hagan's fears for now.

"I swore to protect each and every one of you, and that still stands, no matter how many people want to harm you," Fenrir said softly. "You should go back and try to get some sleep. When everyone is back on their feet we'll talk about this some more."

Hagan stood. He looked back at the Alpha before he left, as if he was going to say something, but he simply nodded and headed back towards the clearing and the caves.

Osgar sighed as Hagan settled back next to him under the fur and he slipped an arm around the smaller boy. From that moment when Hagan collided with him in the woods fourteen years ago, Osgar swore to protect him. He was there when Lucan turned him and he was the one who stayed with him that night, who held the small boy in his arms while he cried and screamed in pain and he was the one who fetched the ice to try and calm Hagan's fever. Since then, Osgar considered that there was a special bond between them. It was only years later, however, that Osgar became aware of what kind of bond he wanted it to be. He had always been fascinated by the large, expressive green eyes of the younger boy, but as he watched Hagan transform into the beautiful young man he now was, Osgar was lost. As he fell back into sleep, he didn't even notice that Hagan had been gone for almost half an hour.

 


	4. The Rivals

_"The primal sin of those like myself, mes amis, is that because we were once people who acted like beasts, we are forever cursed to be beasts who knew they were once men."_

-Gemma Files

 

 

TWO DAYS AFTER the pack's first full moon, the snow started falling and it hadn't stopped since. The temperatures dropped continuously and there was no doubt that the Siberian winter had arrived. In the caves, the fires now had to be kept alight at all times, already roaring if anyone needed to warm up, or else surely a few toes would fall off. From what some of the Donegan wolves told Fenrir, soon the ice on the lake would be frozen so thick that they would have to melt snow in order to get water.

The new pack had settled surprisingly quickly and the guard was now taking turns watching the camp in pairs during the night. Fenrir had grouped the wolves himself, pairing the ones from his old pack and the new ones together so that they would get to know each other. He put Kolfinn with Callan and Janus with Elwyn. Since it was up to him, he decided that Hagan was not going to be spending more time with Osgar than necessary. Osgar was then paired with Maeve and Hagan with Loftr. The minute the partners were announced, he noticed Osgar's irritation and Fenrir had to suppress a grin.

He had to admit that Osgar got his revenge a few days later, however, when the Alpha entered the largest cave, where most of the wolves were sleeping, to check on the fire. Fenrir found him curled up with Hagan under a thick bear fur. He hadn't really seen anything more, but the Alpha suspected that, to keep warm, they weren't wearing very many layers of clothes underneath. Fenrir stood in the entrance for a full minute, staring at Osgar who stared back, half his face buried in Hagan's soft black hair. The blonde wolf smirked and sent Fenrir a defiant glare. Hagan slept on, oblivious to this new hostility.

Upon that unfortunate discovery, Fenrir tried to distract himself by chopping up wood. He heaved the large axe and brought it down violently upon the logs with loud, cracking sounds that resonated through the forest. A few times he found himself picturing Osgar's neck under the blade of the axe instead of the wood. The noises he made were barely enough to cover up the shouts and laughs coming from the clearing and he still managed to hear them from where he stood, next to the caves.

The cold weather did nothing to deter the mood of the wolves, as they were used to it. Yet, while Fenrir's pack usually just spent the winter bundled up close to the fires, the Donegan wolves did things differently. A group of them had taken it upon themselves to keep the clearing free of snow. Then they split the willing wolves into four teams and every day they kicked an old ball around for a few hours. It was a good way to keep warm and a fine distraction for the more rowdy wolves. Their fun was contagious and soon almost everyone had joined a team.

Fenrir paused, leaning heavily on the handle of the axe which was now firmly stuck into a massive tree trunk, and he watched the wolves play for a minute. He could see Callan and Elwyn arguing, which seemed to be what they were doing most of the time. Fenrir understood that they were captains of the opposing teams and from what he could hear in the distance, they were complaining loudly about one having picked all the best players and the other not being able to play fair. Loftr had joined one of the teams, which Fenrir found quite amusing. He could see the older man leaning towards Hagan, whispering and pointing out different moves. Fenrir knew Loftr well enough to know he was plotting something, planning some sort of strategy to make them win. The brief nod the young black-haired wolf gave him and the smirk the two of them shared confirmed Fenrir's suspicions.

Once again Fenrir found himself staring at Hagan. It was impossible for him to keep count of how many times he had done so since they'd met. He was wearing one of the coats the people from the village had given the pack and the garment, which was a few sizes too big, made him look slightly younger. His cheeks were flushed from the cold and the game, his hair was a mess from the wind and the snow, his eyes were bright and there was a genuine smile on his face. Fenrir was mesmerised.

Once Callan and Elwyn finally agreed on something and the game started again, Fenrir kept watching, but his eyes were fixed solely on Hagan. The young man moved swiftly and gracefully, slipping now and then on the firmly compacted snow. He played as roughly as the others and he laughed and shouted with them, cheering with a wolf from his team scored, the ball flying between the two wooden sticks that served as a goal, and past Kolfinn, who protested loudly. Fenrir had never seen Hagan looking so carefree before and it made something flutter inside his chest. But a moment later, it all went away.

Osgar appeared from somewhere. Fenrir hadn't noticed him before, but then again, he was never very far from Hagan. In the commotion following the goal, he grabbed Hagan and held him tightly against his body for a moment, whispering in his ear. The black-haired wolf blushed profusely and pushed Osgar away. They stared at each other for a second. From where he stood, Fenrir didn't know if it was from anger or just embarrassment, but Hagan suddenly looked around, as if to make sure nobody had heard anything and, with one last glance towards the blonde wolf, he turned back to his teammates, getting ready for the next play. Fenrir frowned, wondering what Osgar could have said. Unconsciously, his fingers tightened around the axe. Then, as if sensing his stare, Osgar turned and looked directly at Fenrir, his face expressionless. And slowly, his lips curled upwards into a smirk. Fenrir groaned and furiously gathered up an armful of logs before heading towards the caves.

The little bastard was mocking him and there was nothing he could do about it. If Osgar was courting Hagan, Fenrir had no right to intervene, Alpha or not. He would watch closely though. He would keep his eyes on them at all times, and at the first hint that Osgar's attentions were unwelcomed, at the first hint that Hagan felt violated, he would stop this at once. He could see that Hagan was uncomfortable and the young man didn't seem to want to be with Osgar. But yet again, why didn't he make it clear? Why did he let Osgar touch him, and why did he sleep next to him? Fenrir swore under his breath and a small voice inside his head said something not very nice about Hagan himself, but he ignored it vehemently.

He carried the newly-cut wood into the large cave and eyed the spot where Osgar and Hagan slept with disgust. He let the wood fall brusquely into a pile next to the fire and then threw a few logs into it, squinting at the cloud of smoke that rose from the flames. Once he was sure the fire would burn on for a while, he turned around again to stare at that one spot. No matter how much he tried to think about something else, his eyes kept coming back to it. The dark bear fur lay there innocently, next to an old and shabby blanket that they probably used as a pillow. But then Fenrir's attention was caught by something he hadn't noticed before. There was a dark green duffle bag on the ground. He had spent six months travelling with Osgar so the Alpha new the bag wasn't his. He looked around at the empty cave. All the wolves were busy either watching the game or playing. Fenrir wasn't too proud of himself for it, but he approached the bag, crouched next to it and slid the zip open.

A small smile lit up his face as he went through the bag that was unmistakably Hagan's. On top he found some clothes, most of which consisted of numerous pairs of thick socks. There was an extra pair of shoes that were mostly fit for the summer and a few old t-shirts. The material felt soft under Fenrir's fingers and he couldn't help but bring one of them to his nose and inhale Hagan's scent. His hands trembled when he discovered spare underwear and he pushed it aside, thinking it would be incredibly inappropriate to repeat his previous actions with those.

Digging further under the clothes, he started finding various objects that he examined with utmost care. There was a small black notebook with an old ballpoint pen tied to it, but Fenrir didn't push his indiscretion as far as reading what was written in there. With surprise, he took out an old camera. He had seen one of those maybe twice in his entire life. There was no film in it, but then again he could imagine why. Werewolves didn't have much money. Most of the things they owned had been stolen or traded and camera films were surely hard to come by for they were not necessary. However, he did find a small bundle of photos held together with a worn piece of string. There weren't very many. They were probably taken with what remained of the film when Hagan found the camera. Fenrir looked around, wondering if he should take the time to go through them. He listened for a few seconds and hearing no noise nearby, untied the string and examined the pictures quickly.

The first one was slightly out of frame and showed Callan and Elwyn, with matching grins on their faces. They looked much younger than they were now and Fenrir had trouble telling them apart. The second picture showed another pair of boys and the Alpha frowned when he couldn't recognise them. The one on the left had very short hair of a chestnut brown colour and he was shirtless, sticking out his chest with playful confidence. The other, smaller and very blonde, clung to him in a silly way. Their faces were pressed close together and Fenrir thought they looked terribly young and happy. The wolves in that one didn't look anything like brothers and their behaviour told Fenrir that they were probably mates. The next photo was of Osgar, but Fenrir barely looked at it. He skipped to the next one. It showed no wolf, only the landscape he now saw every morning from the top of the hill overlooking Lake Baikal. He remembered what Hagan told him about how most of the Donegan wolves thought of this place as home. There were more pictures of other wolves whose faces he recognised but whose names he couldn't yet remember and Fenrir browsed through them quickly. Then he tied the photos back together, being careful to leave them in the same order he had found them in, and he turned back to the bag.

Next he found two pairs of glasses, one of which was old and broken. The other was a pair of large sunglasses and Fenrir could see his own reflection in the mirror lenses. Then he found basic objects like a toothbrush, an old razor, a pocket knife, a compass, and the bar of soap Hagan had offered to give him the previous week. At the bottom of the bag, he uncovered an old copy of a leather-bound book entitled  _Leaves of Grass_. Fenrir leafed through it quickly and saw that some passages were underlined. He could imagine that with so few distractions and so much time to waste, Hagan had probably read it countless times. It was a book of poetry.  _Know the universe itself as a road, as many roads, as roads for travelling souls,_  he read from one page. A few pages later, he stopped again. _Passing stranger, you do not know how longingly I look upon you. You must be he I was seeking or she I was seeking. It comes to me as of a dream. I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you._  Fenrir closed the book suddenly, feeling his heart tighten at the words. He turned his attention back to the bag and his eyes grew wide as he took out the next object, one that had been rolled up inside a shirt for protection.

"Oh," a voice said suddenly and Fenrir looked up to see Elwyn standing in the entrance of the cave. They stared at each other for a long time it seemed, the redheaded man's eyes going from Fenrir's face to the bag before him, to the object he was holding.

"This isn't what..." Fenrir started, but the younger wolf interrupted him.

"This isn't what it looks like, right?" Elwyn chuckled nervously. He shook his head and walked over to what Fenrir guessed was his and his brother's corner. "I was just getting a change of socks," he explained, "they're drenched." He unzipped his own bag and fumbled through it with quick and jerky movements. Fenrir could see he was unsettled by what he'd just seen.

"Look, Elwyn..." the Alpha said as he stood, but once again the redhead cut him off.

"I haven't seen anything," Elwyn said simply, barely looking at him. "You're not the first wolf here to go through somebody else's things. Besides, you're the Alpha, you can do what you want," he explained shortly as he removed his boots, slipped off his socks and put on some dry ones. "Just don't take anything you don't really need, and... don't break that," he said, nodding his head towards the object Fenrir was holding. "He really likes that thing." Elwyn put his shoes back on and stood, looking directly at the Alpha for a few seconds before turning away. "You're lucky it's not my brother who found you," he finished quietly as he headed back out of the cave.

"I know," Fenrir said, but he doubted Elwyn heard him for he was already outside. He hadn't known the twins for very long but he already knew that they were very different. Callan had a very strong sense of justice. He wouldn't have brushed off Fenrir's trespassing so easily. In fact, he would have probably denounced him in front of everybody, Alpha or not.

Fenrir looked down at the snow globe he was holding in his left hand. It was a simple yet beautiful thing. Inside it, a leafless black tree was all that filled the space. The rest of it was occupied by a white carpet of artificial snow. He turned the object upside down and watched quietly as small white flakes fell around the tree. He could see why Hagan would keep this. It was rare to see such an object in a pack of werewolves. Carefully, he put the snow globe back into the bag, bundled into a pile of clothes so that it wouldn't break. Then, ashamed of his indiscretion, he closed the bag and left the cave.

Fenrir went back to the pile of wood and continued his work efficiently, trying not to think about what it would feel like to be in Osgar's place and wake up every morning with Hagan's warm body pressed against his. Longingly, he thought about Tuomas and his dark eyes shining with life, then of his dead body lying limp and abandoned with the bodies of human murderers. Six months had passed since that day where Fenrir had killed the only one he'd ever found had any potential to become his mate. Even though he never spoke about him, he thought about Tuomas every day. Guilt plagued him and he constantly dreamt of the stray wolf. Now, when he thought he could finally have a new beginning, one without distractions and disturbances of any sort, his yearning for Hagan brought back thoughts of Tuomas. Not that Tuomas could be compared in any way to Hagan, but Fenrir longed for closeness and intimacy and he had never again let himself be distracted by lust or any craving for companionship, but now things were different. How could he possibly keep those promises when he was aware of Hagan's existence? He had opened Pandora's Box. There was no way to take back what had been unleashed.

 

 

Hagan's team had won. Elwyn taunted his brother loudly and even Loftr let out a few shouts of victory. Aidan, a muscled wolf who had been a close subordinate of Lucan, looked disapprovingly at Kolfinn, whom he was convinced was responsible for their loss.

"All you had to do was keep that ball from going through those posts! How hard can it be?" he said condescendingly.

"What's wrong with you? You know we're playing for fun, right?" Kolfinn defended himself with a deep frown.

"Lay off him, Aidan. Nobody cares who won," Osgar accused, staring as the man he despised grew angrier with every passing second.

"Why don't you just go fool around with your little bitch, Osgar?" Aidan scorned maliciously, nodding towards Hagan whose face lost all expression of joy at the words. "Looks like it's all you're good for now anyway. But I have to admit, I kinda understand you. I wouldn't mind having him all for myself..."

He didn't have time to finish his sentence, however, as Osgar advanced rapidly, ready to confront the older man, but Elwyn grabbed him by the shoulders to keep him from launching at Aidan, while his twin held Aidan back.

"You take that back, you fucking bastard or I'll break your bloody face!" Osgar spat out furiously.

But it was Hagan they should have held back because he had heard, too, and he wasn't happy about that comment either. He threw himself towards Aidan and his right fist collided violently with the older man's jaw. Aidan stumbled backwards, more shocked than hurt. From the expression on his face, he seemed to have trouble believing that Hagan was actually defending himself. It was obvious he expected the boy to just stand on the sidelines while the older men fought.

" _What did you just call me_?" Hagan hissed dangerously, staring at Aidan with evident fury.

In the few seconds it took for everyone to realise how things had turned out, Hagan had time to gather more force and punched Aidan again, this time on his left cheekbone. Callan rushed to catch Hagan by the shoulders, but the younger wolf freed himself with surprising strength and launched at Aidan once more. They collided harshly and tumbled onto the icy ground, Hagan falling on top of Aidan and gripping a handful of his long hair. He pulled hard, making the muscled wolf groan in pain.

"What's wrong?" the black-haired wolf spat angrily. "Is the  _little bitch_  hurting you?"

"Get off me you... fucking freak!" Aidan grunted, his face stretching in pain as Hagan pulled more sharply on his scalp. He tried to grab Hagan around the neck and squeeze, but the young man brought his knee up and slammed it down onto Aidan's neck violently. The sound of bones breaking echoed through the clearing, followed by a loud scream of pain from Aidan.

"Hagan, let him go!" Callan ordered urgently, but his interruption went unnoticed by the younger wolf.

"Do something!" Maeve said to Janus, elbowing him in the ribs. "He'll kill him if we don't do something!" Janus was ready to grab Hagan but when he heard the next words he stepped back in shock.

"If I had a knife on me I would slice your ugly mug from ear to ear," Hagan hissed menacingly, his face only a few inches away from Aidan's. "Then I'd pluck your eyes right out of their sockets and shove them down your fucking throat."

" _What the devil is going on here_?"

Everyone turned to see the Alpha approaching. He had abandoned the pile of wood as soon as he heard the commotion and ran towards the group of wolves that now surrounded the two fighters. He made his way through the small crowd and stopped when he reached Hagan and Aidan, shocked at the violence he witnessed. Aidan's anger seemed to have finally seeped through the pain and he found strength to fight back, one of his fists catching Hagan on the right side of his face. The hit was promptly ignored and Hagan grabbed his arm by the wrist and twisted it roughly, getting another scream of pain from the long-haired wolf.

" _Enough_!" Fenrir growled, grabbing the hood of Hagan's coat and hastily pulling him off Aidan. The Alpha looked at the both of them, completely stunned. Hagan had put Aidan in such pain that the man was almost sobbing openly now. "I said  _enough_!" he repeated when Hagan tried to free himself and launch at Aidan once more. Fenrir turned towards Loftr and pushed Hagan towards the older man. "Take him down the hill and get him to start digging," he ordered and Loftr nodded before grabbing Hagan firmly and pulling him away.

Fenrir knelt next to Aidan, who was still lying on the ground, huffing and puffing in pain. His hair was dishevelled, his jaw was swelling rapidly and he was holding his right wrist in agony. "What happened?" Fenrir asked, turning towards Callan, who stood the closest to him.

"He was mad that we lost the game. Osgar tried to calm him down but he wouldn't and he insulted Hagan," the redheaded wolf related simply.

"You mean to tell me that all six of you couldn't hold back a kid who doesn't even weigh a hundred and fifty pounds?"

"He's stronger than he looks," Callan protested with a shrug. "It's true," he added when Fenrir shot him a warning glare.

Fenrir turned back to Aidan, taking in the extent of his injuries. He could hardly believe that Hagan could inflict all this damage to a man who was so much larger than him. "You two," he said, nodding to Kolfinn and Callan, "take him to Bannock and get him fixed. You," he said to Maeve and Janus," tell me everything that happened and then I'll go check on our digger," the Alpha said before standing.

"Digger?" Callan inquired, raising an eyebrow at Kolfinn while they both lifted a whining Aidan off the ground and started carrying him towards Bannock's cave.

"That's how things are with Fenrir," Kolfinn explained. "We're not allowed to fight each other. He makes us dig holes instead."

"And that helps how?"

"Well," Kolfinn said, wincing slightly at Aidan's weight, "once you've dug through six feet of dirt, you don't really feel like fighting anymore."

 

 

"This is completely unfair," Hagan groaned as a grinning Loftr handed him a shovel.

"That's how it goes, kid. You better start now if you want to be done before nightfall."

"He's the one who started it!  _He_  should be digging the fucking hole!" Hagan protested fiercely.

Loftr couldn't help but chuckle. "Maybe he would be if you hadn't busted his collarbone. Either way, one of you has to do it and you happen to be the one still standing, so get to it."

Hagan looked at Loftr disbelievingly for a moment before starting to dig. Once he'd removed the snow and started hitting chunks of ice, he shot a spiteful stare towards the older man. "You can't possibly expect me to dig into this! The ground is frozen solid!"

Loftr was about to retort but they were interrupted when the Alpha finally reached them. "If you can reduce a man twice your age to a sobbing mess with your fists, you can dig through that," Fenrir said. "You can go, Loftr. I'll take care of this."

"Have fun," Loftr commented before he left, but Fenrir wasn't sure who exactly he was talking to.

Hagan stared at the Alpha for a moment. The man nodded to him, indicating he should resume digging. He slammed the shovel hard into the ground, trying to break through the layers of ice. He was aware of the Alpha's eyes on him and it infuriated him further. His anger was roaring inside his chest like a wild beast. He dug for a long time, barely managing to remove any earth from the frozen ground.

"Explain to me what possessed you to do this," Fenrir ordered slowly after a while, as he watched the boy struggle to remove chunks of frozen dirt.

"I'm sick of them belittling be all the time," Hagan huffed as he struck the ground hard, "talking about me as if I'm not good for anything else then looking pretty and being someone's mate." He paused as he finally removed a large piece of dirt with the shovel. "I'm sick of having to explain to everyone that I'm not, nor do I ever want to be, Osgar's mate!" The anger in his voice seemed to have slightly diminished and was now turning into desperation. He raised his eyes and threw a glance towards the Alpha before he struck the ground again.

He felt shivers run up his spine when he saw the way Fenrir was looking at him, with a mix of fascination and yearning. He had seen that look before on Lucan Donegan and he didn't like it one bit. The man had already taken an interest in him before he realised just how much potential Hagan had. Having magical abilities earned him part of the attention, but after seeing him fight, Lucan had never looked at him the same way again. And now he could see almost the exact same look on Fenrir Greyback's face. But this time was slightly different. Of course physically Fenrir couldn't compare to Lucan. He was more muscular than any other wolf in the pack and stood so tall it made Hagan feel like he was a small and very weak boy looking at a stone fortress. His hair, formerly pale brown but now streaked with silver, brushed his shoulders slightly and was usually pushed back, revealing a wide forehead and straight eyebrows. The eyes, blue and very pale, were serious but held sincerity and softness in them, which had never been seen coming from Lucan Donegan.

"Have you made this clear to Osgar?" Fenrir asked, his voice not as stern as before.

"More times than I can remember," Hagan snorted, removing another piece of earth and throwing it aside. The chunks of dirt contrasted heavily with the carpet of white, immaculate snow around him. "He never listens to me. Nobody here takes me seriously. What will it take? Do I have to beat them all up?" he spat out when the shovel hit a particularly hard spot in the earth and the jolt went up his hands and to his shoulders. He winced in pain. "He was exactly the same before he left. When he came back, I thought he was different, I thought being away had made him realise things, but he's just as hard-headed, just as fucking possessive as he was before. I think he's even worse than he was. The way he talks to me now..." Hagan paused to catch his breath before shoving the ground once more. "I am my own person. I deserve to be treated well. I deserve to be respected," he said, looking directly at the Alpha.

"Do you want me to do something about it?" Fenrir asked then and Hagan paused once more, leaning heavily on the handle of the shovel.

"No," Hagan said, shaking his head and breathing hard. "I don't need you to defend me."

"I saw that." Fenrir approached him and looked at the hole in the ground. It was much smaller than it should have been with all the efforts put into it. "Do you feel better now?" Fenrir asked again, looking at the young man who was still trying to catch his breath.

"Yes," Hagan admitted, but then he removed his hands from the handle of the shovel and looked at them. They were red and swollen and bloody where blisters had burst and on the knuckles where he'd hit Aidan. Fenrir bent down to gather a handful of snow then took both Hagan's hands in his and softly smeared snow on the wounds to help take away the pain. Their eyes met then but they didn't say anything for a long time.

"I can talk to Osgar," Fenrir assured him, pressing the snow into the younger wolf's hands. "I can tell him to leave you alone."

"Don't do that," Hagan said. He hesitated for a second. "He has seen the way you look at me. He will take it as a challenge if you intervene. You don't want him as your enemy, Alpha."

"And how is it that I look at you?" Fenrir couldn't help but ask, his heart beating hard inside his chest.

"In a way you shouldn't," Hagan admitted.

"And how does that make you feel?" the Alpha asked once more, trying to ignore the ball of fire that seemed to be erupting into his chest.

"Scared," Hagan whispered when Fenrir's hands squeezed his own. He had a handful of ice in his hands and yet they felt like they were on fire where they met Fenrir's.

"You're afraid of me?" Fenrir couldn't help but ask, disbelievingly.

"I don't know. Should I be?" The snow he was holding had started to melt and water was dripping through his fingers.

"Never," Fenrir said more loudly.

"Why haven't you told the others about me yet?" Hagan asked, referring to the discussion they had a few days earlier about his magical status.

"Because I figured it's not my place to tell them. You can tell them when you're ready." He squeezed Hagan's hands to show his support.

"I'll never be ready," Hagan admitted, shaking his head and slipping his hands free. "Do I have to keep digging?"

Fenrir chuckled. "No, I don't think it's humanly possible to go deeper. Come, we'll get Bannock to heal this."

They walked back up the hill to the camp. It was starting to get dark and by the time they reached the clearing, the sun was almost completely set. Callan met them at the entrance to Bannock's cave. They could hear Aidan moaning inside.

"It won't happen tonight," the redhead told them casually, hands buried deep in his coat pockets. "Bannock's away with the faeries again. But we left Aidan in there because he won't bother anyone," he said, looking pointedly down at Hagan's bloody hands.

"What do you mean he's away with the...  _faeries_?" Fenrir asked him, eyebrows raising in surprise.

"He gets into those weird trances sometimes. It can last a few hours or sometimes a day or two," the redhead explained.

"And you can't take him out of it?" Fenrir asked, half-annoyed, half-intrigued.

"No," Callan shrugged. "We threw him in the water once, but he almost drowned."

"And what happens if he's not available when we really need him?"

"We wait. This time it's not an emergency. Aidan's in pain, but it's nothing he didn't deserve. We patched him up the best we could," Callan said with a small smile towards Hagan. "You okay, fighter?" he asked the young man tenderly and Hagan nodded. "Come on, we'll fix your hands."

With one last look towards Fenrir, Hagan followed Callan inside. The cave was dark, the only source of light coming from the large wood fire in the centre. Aidan was lying on a fur next to it, holding his broken wrist over his chest and moaning continuously in pain. In the back of the cave, Bannock, an old man with long, shaggy grey hair, was sitting completely still. The only sign that he was still alive were the strange humming sounds that seemed to be coming from somewhere near the back of his throat. His eyes were half-closed with only the white showing, and he seemed to be focusing on something invisible or out of this world.

Elwyn was inside, too, rummaging through a heavy chest filled with small bottles of various potions and salves. "I think I found the one for broken bones," he announced as they entered, holding up a small vial of deep red liquid.

"No, it wasn't that dark. Look for something more pinkish," his twin brother said. "Give me the one from earlier," he asked as he guided Hagan towards a small wooden bench.

Elwyn threw Callan a small bottle and stood up, stretching his back. "Did Greyback really have you dig a hole?" he asked, frowning.

"Yeah," Hagan shrugged as Callan uncorked the bottle and applied some potion to the wounds on his hands. The stung sharply but the pain diminished progressively in the course of a few seconds.

"That's odd," Elwyn said, raising an eyebrow as he sat down across from them.

"Shut your trap!" Callan called out to Aidan who was still moaning in pain.

"Listen," Elwyn told Hagan quietly," I found the Alpha going through your stuff earlier, when I went back to change my socks."

"What did he want?" Hagan asked, blinking.

"I don't know. He was just searching through your bag. I told him I wouldn't say anything. You're not going to tell him I told you, are you?" he asked then, worried.

"No. It's not like there's anything I can do about it anyway," Hagan sighed deeply before closing his eyes.

Callan affectionately put his arm around Hagan's shoulders and the younger wolf hid his face in the crook of the redheaded man's neck, sighing. "Hey, what's the matter?" Callan asked gently.

"Do you think he will turn out just like Lucan?" the younger wolf asked, his voice muffled.

"Why would you think that?" Callan asked suddenly, pushing to the edge of his seat, ready to stand up and confront the Alpha. "I swear if he did anything to you, I'll kill him!" he groaned, trying to keep his voice quiet.

"He didn't do anything, Cal," Hagan said, sitting up straight to look at his friend. "It's just... I'm not stupid, I can feel him watching me, all the time. And Lucan used to do the same thing... And then there's Osgar... I'm just... I'm so tired of all this. I just want to be left alone," he finished weakly.

Elwyn and Callan shared a pained expression before turning back to the black-haired wolf. "We can get Osgar off your back any moment, Hagan. All you need to do is ask," Callan said slowly.

Hagan sighed again and his voice sounded exhausted when he continued. "I don't want you three to fight because of me."

"It doesn't matter if we fight him, Hagan. We haven't seen him for three years. What we had is not the same anymore. But you, you'll always be our little brother. It's your life and your freedom we'd be fighting for. Don't you want anything to be done about it?" Elwyn said in a low voice, his eyes full of affection.

"We're not saying that you can't do this yourself," Callan added quickly, knowing that Hagan would take this the wrong way. "But if he doesn't get the message when it's coming from you, maybe he will if it's coming from us."

"You don't understand! I don't want to lose him!" Hagan explained desperately, keeping his voice low so Aidan wouldn't hear too much. "I love him, but I don't love him  _that_  way. He's always been the most important person in my life. He's always been there, but why does he always have to complicate everything? Why can't we just be friends? Why isn't it enough for him? I don't want to belong to anybody. Why is everyone always on my case? Nobody bothers you two about that, do they? No one forces you into choosing mates?" He looked at them expectantly, waiting for an answer. They both shook their heads. "And Quinn and Rowan, when they became mates, it was a mutual decision because they loved each other. No one forced them to. Rowan never threatened Quinn into loving him, he didn't need to. They didn't have to deal with any of this possessive crap. Why can't I have that too? Why can't _I_  find the _one_  person I can just be with who won't ask me anything I don't feel like giving?"

"Because you're beautiful and you're strong and brave," Callan said with a soft smile. "And it attracts people. It makes them  _want_  to be around you." He caught Hagan's face between his hands and looked him in the eyes. "Please don't stop being yourself because of that. Promise us you won't give in."

"I'm so tired of all this. I'm so tired of having to fight all the time. I thought it would be over when Osgar came back but it's only gotten worse. I just want it all to end. I feel so alone," Hagan said, his voice breaking.

"Hey, hey, hey..." Callan said, frowning. "Don't go saying things like that. You've got us. You'll always have us," the redhead reassured him while Elwyn squeezed onto the bench on the other side of Hagan and rubbed his back soothingly. "It kills me to see you unhappy, and I'm sure El feels the same way." His brother nodded in agreement.

Hagan looked at his friends, his heart heavy in his chest. Without them, he didn't think he would have lived through the last three years. They were so alike and yet so different at the same time. Elwyn was the shy one, the listener, the one he would go to if he had a secret to tell. Callan was impulsive and rowdy, but he knew the right words to say. They used to be almost identical until a few years ago when Callan cut his long hair short after someone threw him a handful of tree sap that stuck it together in a sticky mess. He'd decided he liked that look and kept it short ever since.

They stood by his side all those years, rapidly noticing how Lucan wouldn't leave him alone and telling him they would help him get rid of the Alpha. Surely they could help him, if he ever asked them to get rid of Osgar but he would never do such a thing. Even considering it made Hagan's heart ache. He couldn't imagine life without Osgar. The three years without him had been like a nightmare and he would always remember the exact moment when he'd seen him come out of the trees that day, the day Lucan Donegan was finally killed. But he was so different now. It seemed like the dam that held back every inappropriate thing he had wanted before was let down. Now almost everything that came out of his mouth was embarrassing and uncalled for and Hagan had to try very hard to hide the uneasiness that filled him.

"Thanks, guys," Hagan said, breathing in deeply to try and calm himself.

"Give me something for the pain, you fucking morons..."

"I thought I told you to shut up!" Callan snapped at Aidan before he approached the chest of potions and resumed searching.

 

 

Later that night, Osgar approached Fenrir directly. After days of staring and silently defying each other, they finally stood face to face in the silence of the clearing while all the others were settling in the caves for the night.

"If you think I'm going to let you steal him away, you're mistaken," Osgar said, going straight to the point. His eyes were dark with anger.

"You told me yourself that he was never yours," Fenrir replied, reminded of the conversation they had the day they arrived in Lake Baikal. That was the first time he'd ever heard about Hagan.

"He will be. I'm working on it," Osgar hissed through gritted teeth.

"He doesn't want you," Fenrir said simply, doing his best to remain calm.

"I'll make him change his mind. You need to back off. He is mine. He always was and always will be. We have a history together, nothing can change that," Osgar said slowly and dangerously, poking his finger into Fenrir's chest with every few words.

The Alpha could feel the anger rising through him like a thunderstorm building up. Abruptly, he caught Osgar's hand into his and squeezed tightly. "You cannot force him to be with you. You told me yourself that you would never do such a thing as trap him into a relationship he didn't want. What happened to all your integrity, Osgar?"

For a fraction of a second, Fenrir thought that Osgar was going to fight him, but all he did was remove his hand from the grip and take a step back. "Everything I was went to the dogs when  _you_  started coveting what's  _rightfully mine_ ," he said bitterly, staring at Fenrir with his head held high and his jaw clenched in resentment.

Fenrir stepped closer, his face mirroring Osgar's expression perfectly. They stood a few inches from each other, trying to determine what the other was ready to do to get what they both wanted. After a long and heavy silence, Fenrir finally spoke.

"If it is war that you want, Osgar, that's exactly what you're going to get."


	5. The Truth

_"A submissive wolf is not incapable of protecting himself.  He can fight, he can kill as readily as any other, but a submissive wolf doesn't feel the need to fight, not the way a dominant does.  They are a treasure in a pack, a source of purpose and balance."_

-Patricia Briggs

 

 

EVEN WHEN HE was very young, before he became a wolf, Hagan remembered that he never had many things to call his own. He had vague memories of another boy in his human life. It was a large boy with blonde hair and he wailed constantly for reasons Hagan could not recall. He didn't know if the boy was real or if he'd imagined him, but every time that boy appeared in his mind, he felt a strong feeling of hate and something akin to jealousy. Since there were many of those souvenirs, he thought maybe the boy had been a relative, but he couldn't remember if his family counted another member. All in all, he didn't remember much about this boy, except that he'd had lots of things and Hagan had nothing.

Possessions were of little importance to werewolves. Most of what they owned, they shared. However, maybe because of this lack of possessions in his previous life, Hagan was conscious of the fact that, as far as werewolves went, he was a very materialistic one. He had acquired things over the years which, even though they served small purpose, were very dear to him and he carried those trinkets with him everywhere.

The only book he had, the one by a man called Walt Whitman, was what he considered his greatest discovery. He had learned how to read in school, he supposed, and from his human life he remembered hours spent in dark corners looking through picture books with a flashlight clutched in his hand. He'd found the book when he was eight, in a garbage bin somewhere in Ireland. He'd been excited at first, thinking it was a storybook, but deeply disappointed once he opened it to find poetry. He had decided to keep it, although reading it was a painful process. His reading level hadn't evolved since the last time he attended school and he constantly had to ask Lucan to explain words to him. Now, twelve years later, Hagan knew the whole book by heart.

He was rummaging through his duffle bag for clean clothes when the snow globe fell out. It rolled down the slanted floor of the cave, collided with a large boulder and broke, leaving a pool of clear liquid, tiny shards of glass and little white flakes.

"Shit!" he hissed, crouching to pick up the fragments of broken glass.

The small plastic tree felt incredibly small between his fingers as he picked it up. He felt tears well up in his eyes at the sight of the mess and immediately felt stupid. He hadn't cried for years and now he was about to break down because of a snow globe.

"Shit!" he repeated, slightly louder than before.

"What happened?" Osgar asked as he entered, urgently making his way through the cave and over to Hagan before crouching by his side.

"I broke it," Hagan whispered in shock, still not believing what had just happened.

For years he had kept that object safely protected and all it took was one second of inattention to reduce it to pieces. He felt a warm hand press itself against his back and Osgar's blonde hair tickled his cheek as the older wolf looked at the fragments on the ground.

" _This_  is why you're so upset?" Osgar asked and Hagan could hear in his voice the small smile that was growing on his lips. "It's just a snow globe," he said with a light chuckle. Osgar's fingers caught his chin delicately and turned Hagan's face towards his own. "I'll get you a new one..."

Hagan stood suddenly. He pushed back against Osgar, making the blonde wolf stumble and fall to the ground.

"It's not  _just_  a snow globe!" he hissed angrily, looking furiously at Osgar, whose smile was frozen on his face in shock. "And please tell me  _where_  exactly do you expect to  _get me a new one_? We're in the middle of fucking nowhere!"

Osgar stood angrily, towering dangerously over Hagan, but the young man didn't show a hint of fear.

"It's just a useless trinket, why does it matter so much to you?"

"You wouldn't understand! You never understand anything!" Hagan retorted through gritted teeth.

"Try me!"

"That would just be a waste of time..."

" _Lucan_  gave you that thing!" Osgar replied with an air of disbelief on his face. "That man treated you like dirt, why would you..."

Hagan laughed bitterly before cutting him off. "Oh, because  _you_  are treating me  _so_  much better!"

"I sure hope I'm not interrupting anything," Maeve said flatly as she entered the cave. They both fell silent at the sight of her. A long moment passed before she turned to Osgar and said, nonchalantly, "We just got the food for the week and you're on carving duty, you lucky bastard."

Osgar sighed frustratingly before shooting one last dark look towards Hagan and leaving. Maeve watched him exit the cave in silence and as soon as the man was out of sight, she wheeled around to face Hagan and finally spoke what had been on her mind since she walked in.

"What was  _that_?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at Hagan. "Was that you  _actually_  standing up for yourself?"

Hagan clenched his jaw and sneered. Maeve had the annoying habit of always putting him on the spot.

"I'm pretty sure I wasn't imagining things when I saw you standing there as I was...  _taking care_  of Aidan. You should know by now that I'm perfectly able to stand up for myself..."

"Oh,  _please_... that doesn't count," she said, resting her hand on her hip and smirking at him. "Aidan's a big coward. He's all talk and no trousers. I could have easily beaten him up myself.  _Osgar_ , on the other hand..."

"Look, Maeve, you don't know anything so mind your own business."

"Touchy, touchy," she chuckled, watching as he picked up the glass pieces on the ground. "I understand you, though. Osgar's become quite a pain in the ass over time. I don't know what he did during those three years, but he's not the same."

"I know," Hagan said quietly, piling up the smaller fragments of the snow globe on top of the larger ones. "He's become...  _insistent_."

"He  _really_  wants you as his mate," Maeve pointed out as if he needed to be reminded.

"I noticed, thanks," he said bluntly.

"Why are you so opposed to it?" she asked then, curiosity evident in her voice. "I thought you liked Osgar."

"You said it yourself," Hagan replied, "he's changed. And besides, I don't like him that way." He was starting to get seriously annoyed with Maeve.

"Well, if you don't like him, maybe you should stop misleading him," Maeve added but this time her voice was slightly cautious.

"What do you mean?" Hagan groaned. "I've told him a hundred times I don't want to be with him..."

"And yet you still cuddle up next to him every night."

"That doesn't mean anything!" Hagan protested, but there was a slight pause before he continued. "I don't have my own fur. I've always shared with Osgar before. And when he wasn't there I used to share with Callan or Elwyn and they've never thought anything of it."

"Because they don't like you that way, but Osgar does."

"He wasn't like this before, so why  _now_?"

"He's always liked you more than anyone else here," she said. "And he's been separated from you for three years. Now I suppose he doesn't want to lose you again, that's why he's changed..." She rubbed her chin thoughtfully before she continued. "Or maybe because you were only sixteen back then and he thought it was inappropriate but now he feels that you're of age to be courted..."

" _Oh_ ," Hagan groaned once again, "don't say that god-forsaken word."

"What is so wrong with being courted?" she asked gently. "It's supposed to be... pleasant,  _flattering_."

"Of course you would think like that, you're a girl," he said.

She ignored him, frowning. "Tell me,  _why_  are you so opposed to the idea of having a mate?"

"I just don't want to  _belong_  to anybody."

"It doesn't have to be like that..." Maeve tried to explain but he cut her off.

"Well, that's the way Osgar wants it, and I've told him plenty of times that I don't want anything to do with him," he said as he stood.

"What about the Alpha, then?" the petite girl asked, staring at him intently.

"What about him?" Hagan asked, dumping the fragments of glass into the roaring fire.

" _Oh_ ," she sighed, rolling her eyes at him in exasperation. "I  _know_  you're not that stupid. Don't try to make me believe you haven't noticed that Osgar and Fenrir have been at each other's throats for days. They're fighting over you."

"I've been trying to ignore that," Hagan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, still refusing to look at Maeve and staring at the fire instead.

"Well, maybe it's time you do something about it," she confronted him.

"What do you want me to do?" he said with a frown. "They want to fight over me, well let them fight. I don't give a..."

"The Alpha is not so bad," Maeve pointed out. "If it wasn't for Janus,  _and_  if it wasn't for the fact that I'm obviously missing something that he likes,  _I_  would consider him."

"Are you serious?" Hagan asked with an amused smile.

"Yes, why is that so hard to believe? What more could you want in a mate?" she said, smiling back at him. "He's the Alpha! He's brave, powerful, he can offer protection and safety and you can't honestly say that he'd not good-looking, that would just be denial."

Hagan nodded as he waited for her to finish praising the man and then he added, "Oh, yes, and he also killed his last mate because he disobeyed orders." Then he shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to get some warmth. "Thanks, but I don't have a death wish."

There was a pause before Maeve spoke.

"What are you talking about?"

"You  _know_  what I'm talking about," he said with irritation. "Everyone says that the Alpha is  _so_  noble and  _so_  brave and  _oh_ , his heart is pure and he does things right and he's so different from Lucan. How can they say that, considering what he did?"

Maeve blinked at him. "I  _really_  don't know what you're talking about, Hagan," she said, shaking her head.

"He killed his mate!" Hagan insisted.

" _First_ ," she said, trying very well to hide the exasperation in her voice, "he wasn't his mate  _yet_ , and  _second_ , it was because the guy attacked a human and brought the entire village on the pack and  _nine_  wolves were killed."

Her words took a long moment to process in Hagan's mind.

"What?" he asked, confused.

Maeve spoke her next words gently. "He  _had_  to get rid of him, Hagan, or the pack would have ripped him to pieces. All he did was show mercy..."

"Oh," Hagan said as a strong feeling of guilt and helplessness filled him. "The guy who attacked a human... that was his mate," he recapitulated slowly. "That's not what I heard," he finished, his voice weak.

"That much is obvious," Maeve said with a frown. "Who told you this bullshit?"

"Osgar," Hagan said quietly, realisation slowly sinking in.

Maeve nodded and looked as though she was going to add something, but she remained silent.

"Who told  _you_?" Hagan asked.

"Janus. He was there. He saw everything." She lowered her voice before she continued. "He said that for the next two weeks, Fenrir would leave camp during the night. Once, Janus followed him and he found him just... sitting on a tree stump, crying. Don't mention that though, nobody's supposed to know... for obvious reasons..."

Hagan felt a lump of guilt and sadness in his throat as he heard her go on and on about the Alpha. Every single time Fenrir Greyback had approached him, every single time they had been standing close to each other _, every time_  he had pictured the Alpha snapping his neck in a fit of rage. And all this time he had been wrong about the man. Hagan couldn't imagine the sacrifice he'd had to make and all the pain it caused him. As he stood next to the fire, feeling shame fill him to his very core, all he wanted was to just turn into smoke and mix in with the flames. He would have been content spending the rest of his existence forever warm and emotionless, away from all the troubles and complications life brought him.

"Osgar lied to me," he said then and Maeve stopped talking, taking in the grave expression on his face. "Why would he do that?" Hagan frowned.

"Well," Maeve started.

She sighed, looking as annoyed as if she had to break it to a child that Santa didn't exist.

"I suppose he wanted you to think badly of the Alpha... maybe because he wanted to make sure that you'd... that you'd stay  _his_  or something like that..." She cringed slightly as she spoke, staring at him with extreme caution.

Hagan swallowed her words as if they were razorblades and shut his eyes tightly. Apart from his obvious longing for him to become his mate, he couldn't remember anything malicious ever coming from Osgar before. The first few days after his return had been wonderful, full of catching up and stories of adventures and gentle smiles and friendly embraces. Then it all went away and with the first full moon everything changed dramatically. He wondered if Osgar would even recognise himself now if he ever saw his own reflection in a bucket of water, or maybe in the frozen ice on the lake. Physically, he looked the same, but there was a strange light in his eyes that Hagan had never seen before and couldn't identify at first. But now he knew exactly what it was. He had seen it in Lucan Donegan and he knew how dangerous it could become.

"Don't do anything stupid," Maeve said suddenly and he supposed there must have been anger on his face because her tone of voice pleaded him to calm down.

He didn't listen to her, though. He turned back and left the cave.

The bright light of day and the sun reflecting on the glinting white carpet of snow blinded him for a second. Once his eyes were accustomed to the brightness, he glanced around the camp. A group of wolves were cutting up wood, some were playing in the clearing and the youngest were making a fort out of snow. Finally, he saw Osgar. He was with three other wolves, carving up the carcasses of some large deer the villagers had brought them. He glanced around, making sure there was no sign of the Alpha and, determined and full of anger, he approached Osgar rapidly. He thought he heard Maeve call out to him but he chose to ignore her. Osgar suddenly turned and, seeing Hagan advance on him, he stood. He was about to say something but stopped when he saw all the pain and anger on the younger wolf's face.

"You lied to me," Hagan hissed with his jaw clenched.

"What?" Osgar asked, confused. He glanced around then and Hagan wondered if, like him, he was looking for Fenrir.

"About the Alpha," Hagan explained, his throat tightening with anger. "What you said about his mate, it was all bullshit. You tried to make me believe that he was a heartless bastard, but I'm starting to think it's  _you_."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Osgar said quietly.

Hagan laughed a bitter sound that echoed in the clearing. "Did you  _really_  think that I would never find out? Did you really think that? I knew you were rude and impulsive, but I never thought you were  _stupid_."

There was complete silence around them. The other wolves standing close by were listening intently. Some of them were staring at Osgar in shock, wondering what this was about.

"I... Let's talk about this in private, Hagan, I..." Osgar started, glancing around at the others.

"No!" Hagan said, shaking his head. "No, this is perfect! Let's talk about it here, in front of everybody." He raised his voice and looked around to make sure everyone was paying attention. "Let's make this clear right now."

He approached Osgar and then his voice suddenly turned dangerous.

"Listen to me  _very_  carefully, because this is the  _last_  time I will say it. I don't  _love_  you. I don't  _want_  you. I will  _never_  be your mate."

"Let's talk about this," Osgar insisted and Hagan could see panic emerging in his eyes.

"There's nothing to talk about."

Osgar's voice was quiet when he spoke his next words. His eyes were suddenly very wide and very clear and Hagan didn't think he'd ever seen such an expression of helplessness on his face before.

"Give me another chance, I  _swear_  I..."

"You never had a chance in the first place!" Hagan said angrily.

His voice was shaking now, not only from the anger he felt, but also from the expression he saw on Osgar's face. He knew that with the desperation the other wolf was showing, after this episode it was not Osgar but Hagan himself who would pass for the mean, insensitive one.

"I've told you, Osgar, I've told you a hundred times!  _I don't want you_!"

For a fraction of a second, Hagan couldn't help but ask himself if this was really necessary. Osgar was right when he said that they could have talked this over in private and usually, Hagan was not one to make a scene. But at the time it seemed, if not the best thing to do, at least the most likely to be effective. And yet the heavy silence in the clearing filled him with instant regrets. He shut his eyes tightly, trying not to think that way, but as soon as he stopped talking, he instantly regretted those words. He thought it would probably be best, however, if he didn't show it. It was best if he put an end to all this right now because the damage was already done.

"You will stop talking to me," he said more quietly so that some of the wolves who were standing farther away wouldn't hear. "You will stop  _harassing_  me or I swear... I swear I will hurt you. You know I will." He looked Osgar in the eyes. "You know I can."

"What's happening here?"

The deep voice of Fenrir Greyback reached them before the man did. He arrived accompanied by Maeve who'd run out to get him, thinking the two wolves were going to fight each other. He approached them with a confused expression on his face and looked between the two, waiting for one of them to explain.

"What's going on?"

It was Osgar who spoke first and his voice was bitter when he did.

"Nothing that concerns  _you_ ," he spat before heading down the hill without another look at either of them.

Hagan could feel shame coming from him, along with anger and despair and he thought he saw Osgar's shoulders shake before he disappeared downhill, but he might have just imagined it.

 

 

_The snow globe had been given to Hagan by Lucan on his birthday. Harry Potter might have been born on July 31st, but Hagan was born in October, on the night of the full moon, the night he was turned. He was twelve then, and the pack was making its way towards Lake Baikal for the first winter when, passing through a small village, Lucan acquired the snow globe from a street merchant in a crowded market. The night after the transformation, the man took Hagan aside from the others, saying he had a gift for him. That's when he'd pulled the snow globe from one of the pockets of his large coat and handed it to the black-haired youth._

" _This is what Siberia looks like," the Alpha told his youngest wolf, sitting down next to him on a fallen tree, taking a long drag from one of those little cigars he enjoyed so much._

" _So there's nothing else there but snow?" Hagan asked, staring at the snow globe with captivated green eyes._

" _Not much else, no."_

" _Are we going to live there?" Hagan asked quietly, sharking the snow globe delicately._

_Lucan groaned and Hagan held his breath for a second, thinking he'd made the man angry._

_"I've told you we can't settle anywhere, Hagan, and you know why."_

" _Because of me..."_

" _Yes, because of the people looking for you." He shook his head and a small cloud of smoke came out from his nostrils before he spoke. "We will stay there for a little while and then we will find a new place."_

" _Can we go to California after?" Hagan asked, slightly hopeful. Walt Whitman wrote about this place in his book and Hagan often longed to visit it._

_Lucan laughed and choked slightly on his cigar. "That's far away, you know. You have to cross the sea to go to California. And that's not much of a place for werewolves," Lucan frowned. "It's much too warm."_

" _I like warmth."_

" _We can't go to California, Hagan. That's final. Now stop acting like a child," Lucan groaned, dropping what remained of his cigar on the ground and burying it in the dirt with the heel of his foot. "You'll love Siberia," he said gruffly._

" _Is it very cold there?" Hagan asked again, his gaze still fixed on the snow globe._

" _Yes, very," Lucan said, smiling as he passed one arm around Hagan's thin shoulders and rested his other hand heavily on the young boy's knee, rubbing slightly. "But don't worry about it, I'll keep you warm," the Alpha added, his hand making its way to Hagan's thigh._

" _Osgar says you shouldn't touch me like this," Hagan said quietly, looking around, but the others were all farther away, sitting around the fire, telling each other horror stories and laughing out loud every now and then._

" _I am your Alpha, your Sire, I can do whatever I want," Lucan protested, his voice strangely quiet. "And Osgar says that only because he wants you for himself."_

" _What do you mean?"_

" _Do you know what mating is, Hagan?" Lucan asked softly, caressing the boy's face with the back of his large, calloused hand._

_Hagan blushed. He'd heard some of the older wolves talk about it and thought it sounded weird and embarrassing. He simply shrugged, feeling a strong burning in his cheeks as he did so._

" _Well, a cute little thing like you is only good for mating. When you grow up, you'll see that I'm right," Lucan whispered in his ear. He gestured towards the others. "They will be all over you, each and every one of them. They won't give you a moment's rest. And Osgar..." he chuckled softly, and Hagan felt his warm breath against his face. It smelled of raw meat and smoke. "Osgar will be the first one to come to you."_

" _But what if I don't want to... mate?" Hagan asked, frowning._

" _Lucan!" said a loud, dangerous voice. "Get your filthy hands off him!"_

_Hagan raised his head suddenly to see Osgar running towards them. His eyes were dark with anger and his entire face showed pure fury when Lucan laughed heartily. He grabbed Hagan and pulled him away from the Alpha. Hagan clutched the snow globe tightly, making sure he wouldn't drop it in the process._

" _Osgar, Osgar, Osgar..." Lucan chuckled, going through his pockets and taking out a battered carton of cigars and the old Zippo he always carried around. "You never fail to amuse me. Don't make a scene, we were just having a bit of fun," he drawled lazily, raising an eyebrow at the twenty-one year old wolf as he lit another cigar._

" _You fucking pervert!" Osgar accused, his whole body shaking with rage. "He's just twelve!"_

_He threw one last, ferocious look towards the Alpha and pulled Hagan with him back towards the campfire. Before they reached the others, however, Osgar stopped and crouched in front of the boy who, when standing, only came up to his chest._

_"Why did you let him touch you that way?" he hissed furiously. "Don't you remember what I told you?"_

_Hagan looked at him with wide eyes. The grip the older wolf had on his arm was starting to be painful._

_"You're hurting me..." he mumbled, feeling tears fill his eyes._

_Osgar let go of his arm as if he'd been burned and looked down in shame. "I'm so sorry, Hagan. I didn't mean to yell at you. It's just... you're too young for anyone to touch you that way just yet."_

" _But he gave me a present, look." He held out his hand to show him the snow globe and Osgar couldn't help but smile sadly at the innocence of the boy. "And I don't have anything to give him in return, and I thought..."_

_Osgar grabbed his hands and for a second, the look on his face scared Hagan. But all the older wolf did was look him straight in the eyes as he spoke._

_"Listen to me, Hagan, listen very carefully. It's not okay to let anyone touch you in ways that make you uncomfortable, no matter what they say to try and convince you, or no matter what presents they give you."_

" _But he's the Alpha," Hagan whispered. "He'll hurt me if I don't do what he asks."_

" _I will never let him hurt you, never," Osgar assured him, but there was a pained look on his face. "If anything happens, you call out to me and I will come running, understand?"_

_Hagan bit his lip, but he nodded. Osgar didn't say anything more, he just hugged him very tightly, for a very long time._

 

_  
_

"Here you are. I've been looking for you," Callan said as he plopped down next to Hagan.

He smirked when he saw that the young wolf had on those large sunglasses he always wore when they were travelling in the summer. They were sitting on the ice in the centre of the lake and the sun reflecting on the frozen surface sent blinding patters of light on their faces.

"You've always liked this place, haven't you?"

"It's peaceful," Hagan said quietly, his fingers tracing the lines of the cracks in the ice. Callan couldn't see his eyes because of the glasses but from the hoarse sound of his voice, he thought maybe Hagan had been crying. He chose not to say anything though. "No one ever comes here."

"With reason," Callan said, uncomfortably looking around as if to make sure everything was solid.

Hagan laughed quietly. "The ice is at least six inches thick, it's not going to break," he said, looking at his friend with a smile. "And if it is going to break, you're not helping by fidgeting like that."

Callan groaned, but finally stilled. A long moment passed and they were both silent; Hagan thinking about the events from earlier that day, and Callan listening for threatening noises coming from the ice.

"Have you seen Osgar?" Hagan asked softly. "I want to apologise, but I can't find him anywhere."

Callan shook his head. "Don't apologise to him, Hagan. All he had to do was listen to you from the start and he didn't. He had it coming."

"I just feel so guilty," Hagan said, looking at his friend and Callan could picture just how helpless his eyes were under the mirror lenses. "He's always been there for me, and  _this_  is how I repaid him."

"He hasn't  _always_  been there. He left for three years," Callan reminded him.

"He would have been killed if he'd stayed."

"He should have died for the pack," the redhead replied fiercely.

Hagan turned to him and for a second Callan felt uncomfortable. He couldn't tell if Hagan was angry or sad. The younger wolf just looked at him quietly and all he could see was his own face reflected in the sunglasses.

"And would  _you_  die for the pack?" Hagan asked quietly.

"In a heartbeat," Callan answered without a second thought. "And the same goes for my brother."

"Explain to me then," Hagan drawled, turning his head to look straight ahead, towards the mountains, "why that fight, the one you had on the day Lucan was killed, why it never ended."

"Because Fenrir interrupted," Callan said, frowning. He didn't understand where Hagan was going.

Hagan smiled and shook his head.

"You know what I mean. You and El, you're the strongest people I know. You could have ended that fight quickly and yet it went on for ages. You could have killed him and he could have killed you just as easily. You couldn't know that Fenrir would come and save us all. You claim you'll always be there to have my back, but if you'd both died  _for the pack_ , as you said, who would have been left to help me get rid of Lucan? Did you ever consider that? If you were as brave as you think you are, you would have ended it quickly, even if it meant losing your brother."

There was a long moment of awkward silence and Callan realised that Hagan was mostly right. He felt like he should protest, but suddenly he didn't feel like arguing anymore. Suddenly he felt very tired. Callan shook his head and sighed, but he said nothing.

"You see," Hagan added more softly, "we're all afraid to die, Cal. The sooner you realise that, the easier your life will get. Osgar was just as scared as you were when you thought you had to kill your brother. It wasn't his fault that he left. But he came back, that's what matters."

They heard someone come up behind them and both turned to see Fenrir approaching. He looked just as uncomfortable walking on the frozen water as Callan had been. The redhead stood suddenly.

"Wait, wait!" he called, gesturing for the Alpha to stop where he stood. "I'll talk to you later," he said to Hagan before quickly walking away, very carefully towards the beach. "I really like you, Alpha, but I won't stand on ice with a guy who probably weighs as much as a mountain bear," Callan said nervously. "No offense."

"None taken," the Alpha said, chuckling.

He waited until Callan was safely on the beach before making his way to the black-haired wolf who was sitting comfortably around the centre of the lake.

"I knew you'd come," Hagan said as he stood to face the Alpha.

"They told me what happened with Osgar," the man said sincerely. "I just wanted to see if you would be okay."

"Or you wanted to see if you have a chance now that he's out of the picture?" Hagan asked with a smirk.

Fenrir couldn't help but shake his head. "I see you're not holding back now that you no longer think I'm a heartless killer."

Hagan had the decency to look ashamed.

"Did Maeve tell you about that?"

"Yes. When she found me she was very upset. She thought you were going to fight Osgar. And from what she told me, I was ready to take out the shovel, but I was surprised at how... peaceful your confrontation was."

"It looked peaceful, but it wasn't," Hagan said, looking away as he felt his heart tighten.

"I can imagine," Fenrir agreed with a slight nod before he fell silent.

"Is that really why you're here?" Hagan asked quietly. Even with the glasses shielding his eyes, he couldn't bring himself to look at the Alpha's face.

Fenrir raised his hand, and gently, he removed the large sunglasses from Hagan's face and raised the young wolf's chin so that he was looking at him. His eyes were red and slightly swollen. He had been crying. Hagan rubbed his face embarrassingly with the back of his hand. Fenrir stared at the hand that he had just swiftly grazed across his cheek and, surely enough, there was a tiny droplet on his knuckle, glistening in the sunlight.

"I cannot deny that I want you," Fenrir said softly and Hagan looked shock by how direct the man was being, "but I would never impose myself on you."

Hagan looked down, trying to process the words, but Fenrir grabbed his chin once more and lifted his face again.

"Don't be afraid to look at me. I would never do anything to hurt you."

The man smiled gently and let his hand travel to the back of Hagan's neck. But the touch was not insistent. It was light and hesitant, as if expecting Hagan to pull back at any moment, but he didn't. They were both silent for a while and Hagan felt his heart beat faster inside his chest and his breath shaking inside his throat as they looked at each other intently, as if memorising the details of their faces.

"I'm sorry I thought badly of you," Hagan said finally. "I really am. I don't think I've ever been so ashamed in my life before."

Fenrir was going to say something but Hagan continued before he could utter a single word.

"I know I've been wrong about you, and I would really like to get to know the real you, without any barriers or any misconceptions." The look on the Alpha's face showed true joy, but still Hagan kept talking. "But... I want some time. For now, I just need to be left alone. I hope you'll understand."

Fenrir blinked and finally he nodded slowly. "Take all the time you need," he said quietly. "I'll wait."

Hagan couldn't help the smile that spread on his face. "That's just what I wanted to hear," he whispered and Fenrir laughed slightly.

Then the black-haired wolf took a deep breath and, before he could change his mind, he stood on the tip of his toes and pressed a soft kiss on the corner of the Alpha's mouth.

He had almost expected the man to grab him and force a deeper kiss from him, but Fenrir did nothing of the sort. He was surprised at first and then his face broke into a smile more honest than Hagan had ever seen coming from him before. Slowly, he pulled the younger wolf towards him and embraced him gently. His face buried in the Alpha's coat, Hagan sighed contentedly.

"Don't give up on me," he mumbled.

"I'm a patient man," Fenrir Greyback answered before closing his eyes tightly.

This was a moment that, in the following weeks, he would remember numerous times.

 

 

_The worst night of his life, as Hagan referred to it, happened one week after Osgar left. They were in Mongolia, making their way west for the summer and the pack had set camp in the mountains for the night. Hagan had just managed to fall asleep when he was awakened suddenly by a large hand covering his mouth. Drowsily, he was dragged away from the others and into the woods by a furious Lucan, then pushed to the ground violently._

" _It was you, wasn't it? It was you who convinced him to fight me?" the man spat out, pointing a threatening finger at Hagan who, still half-asleep, had to think for a minute to remember what this was about._

" _No," he said finally. "I didn't know he would do it, I swear."_

_"Liar!" he hissed, his face livid with rage. "I know you've been going around turning them against me, you fucking little tease!"_

_He barely had the time to protest before Lucan was on him, gripping his hair tightly and pulling at his clothes. When Hagan tried to scream he was interrupted by a fist being shoved down his throat. He fought to get Lucan off him, but the man was so much bigger and so heavy and Hagan was exhausted from a whole day of hiking in the mountains and he quickly grew tired. By the time he stopped fighting, Lucan was groaning in a way the sixteen year old had never heard anyone groan before and he tried not to listen. He tried to listen to the wind in the trees and the insects of the forest, but it seemed that they, too, were quiet._

_But then he felt something build up inside him, inside his chest, and for a second, he thought he was on fire. He thought he was dying. And suddenly Lucan was pushed back with such force that he collided with a large tree a few feet away. Hagan took the opportunity to stand and try to escape, but he only managed to run a few steps before Lucan caught up with him, grabbing him by the hair and throwing him back onto the ground._

" _What was that, you little freak? You're trying to use some of that witchcraft shit on me?"_

_He clawed at the ground, trying to crawl away from under the Alpha, but the large man pressed down on him so heavily that he thought the bones in his back would snap. He tried to scream again but his face was shoved in the leaves-covered ground and he choked on the dirt that filled his mouth and lungs while his clothes were ripped away from his body._

_When Lucan entered him roughly, Hagan thought about Osgar and how he'd once promised that Lucan would never hurt him. 'If anything happens, you call out to me and I will come running,' he'd said._

_In between sobs, he called out Osgar's name, but he never came. Lucan only laughed at him and thrust harder..._

 

_  
_

"Hey, you okay?" Callan asked softly when Hagan woke suddenly. He was still shaking from the dream and had to try hard to catch his breath.

"Yeah, it was just a nightmare," Hagan whispered finally but his voice shook.

"Come here," Callan said, pulling him closer into his arms.

Hagan tucked his head under his new sleep companion's chin and felt warm lips kiss his forehead. Callan fell back into a deep sleep a few minutes later, his breathing turning heavy and peaceful. Despite the safety of his friend's arms, Hagan didn't sleep again for the rest of the night. He knew he was only imagining it, but it seemed to him that the air around smelled of cigar smoke and sweat.


	6. The Declaration

_"We listened for a voice crying in the wilderness and we heard the jubilation of the wolves."_

-Durwood L. Allen

 

THE THICK CARPET of snow rustled underneath the black wolf's paws while he ran. Clouds of flakes rose around his form as he dashed through the forest, sticking to his dark fur, and from the warmth of his body, turning into thousands of small water droplets. The wolf could remember a time, not so long ago, when he shivered helplessly in the winter wind, his body weak and his limbs devoid of fur, but it seemed to the animal as if a strange dream. How could he ever feel cold when the world around him was so full of heat? How could he ever feel lonely or hurt when he was now so careless and free? He could hear the gleeful cries of his brothers all around as they ran together. The feeling of intense joy that sparked through his body at that moment could hardly be contained, and giving into the sharp pull of his instincts, he howled loudly towards the sky.

The clamour of the werewolves exploded through the forest, and upon hearing it, the people of the Evenki village trembled in their small huts. The wolves, however, barely remembered their existence. They were, for the time being, very far away and content to chase after deer. For the most part, they were ignorant of the fact that in a few hours they would change back into weak, ordinary humans. For now, they were invincible.

The large, silver grey wolf that led the pack stopped suddenly and sniffed the air around them, searching for the scent of the prey they had been chasing. But they'd stopped too many times for no apparent reason and now all traces of the animal were lost. When the Alpha turned around to glare at them for their distractions, he found the other wolves engaged in yet another of those pointless fights they seemed to love so much. He yapped sharply to get their attention but was ignored amongst the howls and barks of the pack.

Immediately he searched for the black wolf he had quietly observed all night and was relieved to find him a little farther away from the fighters, rolling around in the snow underneath a large fir tree. He felt a surge of fondness at the sight of him playing so innocently, a sort of stirring inside his heart. Slowly, he approached.

The black wolf raised his head to look up at his Alpha with sparkling green eyes and a nose covered with snowflakes. He sneezed violently. The Alpha gave a slight bark that sounded almost like a laugh and the other wolf strutted over to him. He couldn't help but admire the dark coat of midnight black fur that tinged on blue in the moonlight. The grey wolf bent his head slightly when he came near and their noses touched in a gesture of affection. The black wolf looked towards the others and whined in annoyance before nudging the Alpha. Then he gave a small howl, like an invitation, and he dashed off into the woods. The grey wolf set off after him a second later.

The Alpha ran freely, without holding back on speed like he usually did so that the rest of the pack could keep up, and he was surprised to see that the black wolf managed to stay by his side. They bolted between the trees, raising a thick cloud of powdered snow in their wake. The Alpha howled loudly and the black wolf answered, their cries becoming one and echoing like thunder into the night. And that's when the Alpha knew what this small stirring inside his heart meant. Sometime in the near future, this breathtaking little black wolf would become his mate and they would spend the rest of their lives together. He would make sure of it.

 

 

It was sunlight that woke Fenrir the next morning, its rays powerfully spreading themselves onto the bodies lying silent and still in the snow. Sometime near dawn, he had led the pack back to the clearing because he knew they wouldn't have the strength to walk all the way back in their human forms. He stood, lowered the bags of clothes from the trees and set off to get everything ready for when the others started to wake. While he lit the fires in the caves, Kolfinn woke up and the Alpha sent him to collect water. Fenrir was just about to light the large fire in the clearing when someone came up behind him.

"Good morning," a voice said and Fenrir couldn't help the smile that spread across his face as he laid eyes on the young man before him. He was still covered in blood and grime from the night, but he managed to look breathtaking even then.

"Good morning," he answered and Hagan smiled brightly back at him.

Fenrir turned quickly to light the fire so that he could talk to Hagan, but he realised he couldn't find the flint anywhere. He searched his pockets and looked around on the ground, but it wasn't there. He could have sworn he'd had it just a moment ago. He must have dropped it on his way back from the caves.

"I can do that," Hagan said, crouching near the pile of wood. Frowning, Fenrir looked over his shoulder to see what he was doing. He didn't have a lighter of anything of the sort. He just placed his hands over a pile of twigs and waited. "It might take a little while," he admitted. "I've never done this after a transformation, but I think it'll work. I just need to concentrate." His voice was very low, as if he didn't want anyone else but Fenrir to overhear.

After a moment, Hagan gave a small yelp of surprise and when he stood, the twigs were burning and the fire was already starting to spread to the wood. Fenrir could only stare at him in disbelief.

"It's the only magic thing I know how to do," Hagan said with a small smile. "The first time was an accident, but I've been practicing and now I can do it whenever..." He interrupted himself when he turned and saw the look on the Alpha's face.

"You just did wandless magic," Fenrir declared in admiration.

"Not everyone can do stuff like that?" Hagan asked and there was an edge of panic in his voice.

"No, some can," Fenrir assured him. "It's just rare for someone with no magical training, but it only means that you're talented."

Hagan looked uncertain, but he nodded. Looking around, he quickly steered the conversation towards another topic. "It's getting colder," he said casually. "The days are shorter, too. It must be Christmas soon."

"The pack usually celebrates it?" Fenrir asked curiously. There was a piece of twig stuck to the boy's hair and he longed to reach out and remove it.

Hagan shrugged. "Not really..." he admitted. "Some of the wolves use it as an excuse to stuff their faces more than usual, but we don't do anything special."

They fell silent. They hadn't really talked in the last month. Fenrir did his best to keep his distance, just like Hagan had asked him. Their interactions were limited to 'official business', as Fenrir called it, which consisted in anything having to do with the pack or guard duties. That morning, however, it looked as though Hagan wanted to talk to him,  _really_  talk, and he couldn't help but feel a strong wave of excitement at the thought. Hagan was standing before him, hands buried in the pockets of his oversized pants and he seemed hesitant to speak what was on his mind.

"It looks like there's something you want to ask me," Fenrir said, smiling.

"I... I ran with you last night, didn't I?" he asked with a lopsided grin.

Fenrir's smile grew even broader and Hagan blushed very slightly. "Yes, you did. You remember?"

"A little," the young werewolf said with a shrug.

Fenrir nodded. "It's unusual for a bitten wolf to remember..." he started, "but then again... you're not like the others, are you?" He jerked his head towards the fire, referring to his display of magic from earlier. Shrugging again, Hagan laughed slightly. The sound warmed Fenrir's heart. He hadn't heard the boy laugh very often. "Your wolf form is beautiful," Fenrir added softly and Hagan laughed again.

"Thank you." He smiled and tilted his head, trying to find a good response. "Yours is... imposing..."

This time it was Fenrir who laughed. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"It  _is_  a compliment," Hagan insisted, grinning. "You're the Alpha. You need to be big and have... muscles and..." He blushed deeply and looked down at his bare feet shuffling nervously in the snow. Fenrir had to try very hard not to laugh. He didn't want Hagan to get mad at him and storm off. "I just meant to say..." the boy said suddenly and he forced himself to look up at the Alpha. "I meant to say that I... I think you look good... in wolf form, as well as... now."

It was obvious to Fenrir that Hagan had never flirted with anyone before in his life and he couldn't help but be incredibly touched by the words, however clumsy they were. "Thank you," Fenrir said sincerely. "It really means a lot coming from you."

"Good," Hagan said, slightly relieved and he laughed nervously, "because I was about to blame all this nervous babbling on the fever."

"How are you?" Fenrir asked suddenly and he couldn't help the slight worry in his voice as he finally looked Hagan over, searching for any wounds or new scars. It was difficult to distinguish anything because of all the dirt, however. There were a few scratches on his face and chest, but nothing threatening. Apart from those, he looked flushed and feverish and he was trembling slightly. Nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary.

"I'm okay," Hagan assured him. "I'm just a bit sore, but it probably had to do with all the running. You're very fast."

"You managed to keep up," Fenrir pointed out.

"Barely," the young man said with a small smile. He looked around. Over in the clearing, some of the wolves were starting to wake. He could see bodies shifting slightly. The sun was shining brightly, but the crisp, clear air and the heavy clouds of mist forming from their breaths, told him that if it wasn't for the post-transformation fever, he wouldn't be standing outside half-naked. "I just wanted you to know that I haven't been ignoring you or anything like that..." he added with a hesitant stare at the Alpha.

"I know," Fenrir nodded. "Did you have time to think?" he asked softly, not wanting to push his luck.

"Yes..." Hagan started slowly, but he was interrupted by a child's voice.

"Uncle Fen!" They both turned to see Antti, Yrsa and Kolfinn's eight year old son, shuffling towards the Alpha as fast as his small legs could carry him. Obviously, the little boy hadn't been awake for long for his legs were wobbly as he ran. He was now wearing a pair of long pyjamas, and with the way he kept yawning, he seemed more than ready to go back to sleep.

Fenrir picked him up when he reached them and Antti clung to his neck tightly. "What is it, Pup?" the Alpha asked tenderly, making Hagan smile.

"Mommy said to tell you that Bannock is gone again and she doesn't know what potion to use." Fenrir sighed as he heard the news.

"I'll go wake Callan," Hagan said. "We can probably figure it out."

"We'll talk later?" Fenrir asked suddenly.

"Yes, of course." Hagan smiled and waved at Antti who waved back, before heading towards the mass of sleeping bodies in the clearing.

"Do you like him, Uncle Fen?" Antti asked once Hagan had left.

"Yes, I do. I really like him," Fenrir said softly.

"Is he going to be a Greyback?"

Fenrir smiled.  _Hagan Greyback_ , he thought. He sure liked the sound of that. "Maybe, but only if he wants to," he told Antti.

"Why wouldn't he want to? We're the best wolves out there!" the little boy said expressively before yawning widely. "I like him, too. I can talk to him if you want? I'm sure I can convince him!"

"We'll see..." Fenrir said, laughing. He ruffled Antti's curly brown hair as he headed back towards the caves, the little boy chatting away as he walked.

 

 

"Hey, Bannock," Hagan whispered as he leaned over to check if the shaman was still alive. He put his ear next to the old man's chest and was relieved to hear a steady heartbeat. There was this humming sound again, coming from the back of his throat and his eyes were white and twitching. Gently, he forced the man's body to lie down on the animal fur where he'd been sitting. "Cal!" he called. "Come help me get his arms down!"

Callan, who was once again rummaging through the chest of potions, hurried over to him and they pressed on Bannock's stiff limbs until they laid straight by his side. "These weird fits, they're getting more frequent," Callan pointed out as they stood for a moment, staring down at the shaman who was now whispering frantically in a strange language.

"I know... I wonder what's going on in his head..." Hagan said as they headed back towards the large chest of potions. "Fenrir is getting really upset with him. Maybe when he wakes we should get him to label the bottles..."

Callan grinned. "So it's  _Fenrir_  now, is it?"

Hagan shot him a warning glare. "Don't start that."

"Hey, I'm just happy for you, that's all," Callan said, elbowing him playfully.

"There's nothing to be happy for." Hagan stifled a yawn and stretched his painful neck.

"Did you hear about Maeve and Janus? They want to do the ceremony this week."

"It'll be strange," Hagan said softly. "We haven't had one since..."

"Since Quinn and Rowan, yeah..." Callan agreed with a sad smile on his face. "But hey, I'm sure Fenrir will do a much better job than Lucan did back then." He laughed bitterly, remembering how Lucan, who always drank too much on these occasions, had messed up the whole ritual twice, and how furious Rowan had been. They'd had to hold him back to keep from launching at Lucan. The Alpha was so drunk by that time, all he could do was stumble around while laughing himself silly. "What's wrong?" Callan asked when he noticed how silent Hagan was.

"Today started so well," Hagan said with a simple shrug. "I just don't feel like spoiling it by thinking about Lucan."

Callan felt his heart tighten inside his chest. "If you ever feel like talking about this, about anything... you know I'm here, right?" he asked softly, pausing in his search to look at his friend.

Hagan looked at him, his eyes extremely clear, and he nodded. For a fraction of a second, Callan thought he might cry, but he simply nodded sadly and turned back to the chest of potions. Callan almost wished he would cry. It might make him feel better. He, himself, hadn't been able to keep from spilling a few tears when, a week before, Hagan had finally revealed to him what those nightmares he had were about.

"If he were still alive, I'd kill him for what he did to you," Callan whispered as, finally, he found one bottle he suspected might be the potion they were searching for.

"There's nothing you could have done, but I appreciate it," Hagan said grimly.

Callan uncorked the bottle and smelled the purple liquid it contained. "Yeah, that's the one, I'm sure of it. It smells like rotten fish..." Then he turned back to Hagan. "Did you tell Osgar what happened?" he asked hesitantly.

"No," Hagan said dryly, a sure sign that he didn't feel like talking about Osgar at all. They hadn't talked since Hagan's scene weeks ago. He'd found it hard to be estranged from his best friend at first, but then Hagan realised he had managed to live three years without him, this couldn't be worse. At least Osgar seemed to respect his demand and stayed away. He could easily pretend that Osgar just never came back.

"Fenrir is not like Lucan, you know," Callan said suddenly and his friend only nodded. "Look at me," he asked and Hagan raised his head, giving him a weak smile. "You should give him a chance, Hagan. I don't think he would ever hurt you. There's this look on his face when he sees you, you know? It's like he's always just waiting for you to show up."

Hagan couldn't help but smile. "I ran with him last night," he confided slowly. "I can remember a little. Everyone else was messing around and we just took off and ran."

"Just you two?"

"Yeah... for an hour or so, I think."

"That sounds nice," Callan commented with a smile.

"I feel... things... for him," Hagan said quietly and Callan listened, trying not to grin madly at his friend's words. "I've never felt that way for anyone before," he admitted.

Callan nodded simply. Secretly, though, he felt a wave of excitement at the news. It was obvious to him that Hagan was interested in the Alpha. He just wished his friend would act on those feelings already. He deserved to be happy, Callan thought as they left the cave with the newfound bottle of potion.

 

 

The very next morning, the pack woke up to the coldest day so far. The air was dry and crisp and a frigid wind blew through the trees, whistling shrilly now and then. Most of the wolves decided to stay in that morning, keeping warm inside the caves, telling each other stories and playing cards to pass the time, waiting for the afternoon to go outside and play. Around noon, Fenrir called a meeting of the guard out in the clearing and the eight wolves showed up, dressed in extra layers of clothing, and they huddled around the fire. Hagan had the hood of his large coat up and tightened around his face. All you could see were his bright green eyes in the gap between his snow hat and his scarf. The others were all similarly clothed.

"I called this meeting here today because there are a few things to discuss," Fenrir announced, standing up so that everyone could see him, even Maeve, Janus and Kolfinn, who were sitting on the other side of the large fire. "First, we have a problem with Bannock. He's still not back from... from wherever he's gone to. He should be available at all times and twice already he has failed to help when we needed him."

"There's not much we can do about that," said Elwyn quietly, as if to defend the old man. "I don't think he can control it himself."

"We'll have to find a way," Loftr said. "He should know to be around for the full moon. We need replenishing potions and some have wounds that need to be healed. This can't keep happening. One day we'll be in trouble because of it."

"Loftr is right, Elwyn," Fenrir said. "I don't mean Bannock any harm. He is always very helpful, but he needs to be reliable also. I was thinking that maybe we could find him an apprentice. That way when he is... indisposed, there will be someone else we can go to."

"That's a good idea," Maeve said suddenly. "But who?"

"We could ask my mother," Janus suggested, rubbing his hands together near the fire. "She's been complaining she has nothing to do. With a pack this big, there's always someone to help with everything."

Fenrir smiled. "That's very considerate of you, Janus. As it happens, your mother came to me this morning and we discussed this together. Janka is good with a needle. She agreed to do some sewing work for the pack, fixing clothes and making new garments."

"Now that's brilliant," Callan said, smiling. "She'll be able to fix that horrendous rip in your jeans, Loft. We won't have to be scared to get a glimpse of your crotch every time we look at you."

"You're just jealous of the perfection of my privates, boy," Loftr drawled with a wink.

"You don't understand, Cal," said Janus with a wide grin on his face. "At his age, if he doesn't air out his junk once in a while, it'll shrivel up..."

"Enough! Enough!" Fenrir cried, interrupting Loftr who'd surely come up with a witty reply. The Alpha chuckled before sending them all a reprimanding glare. "Back to the problem at hand, please, we need to find a solution. Who will be Bannock's assistant?"

"Hagan should do it." It was Osgar who'd spoken and they were all surprised to hear him. He hadn't talked to anyone in a while and to hear him speak openly, and about Hagan, was somewhat shocking. They all shot him an uncertain glance.

"What do you mean by that?" Callan asked loudly, ready to defend his friend. He was already on the edge of his seat.

"He gets along well with Bannock. I think he would do a good job, that's all," Osgar said plainly.

Fenrir turned to Hagan. "What do you think?"

"I'll do it," Hagan said quickly, his voice muffled by the fabric of his scarf. He didn't really want to be spending more time than necessary in Bannock's weird-smelling and stuffy cave, but he'd decided to volunteer, if only to break the awkward silence that settled on the members of the guard. He didn't once look at Osgar, though.

"Very well," Fenrir said, catching Hagan's eyes. "Once Bannock is back, you will ask him to teach you everything." He turned towards the others again. "On a happier note, I'm sure you've all heard about it by now, but we will be having a mating ceremony at the end of this week." Everyone applauded at these words and a smiling Maeve cuddled up against a blushing Janus. Fenrir smiled as he looked at them. "I just want to say congratulations. I'm very happy for the both of you. Now, everyone on the guard will be helping with the ceremony. Await my instructions in a few days."

The Alpha waited for the wolves to give their good wishes and congratulations to the future mates and once the clearing was silent again, he continued. "Now, onto the most important matter I wanted to discuss with you." They all listened intently at this. "The temperature is becoming a problem..." Everyone agreed with a series of painful groans. "We're all used to the cold, of course, but I've noticed that we don't have enough furs to keep everyone warm..."

"Yes, but the villagers..." Kolfinn started.

"I don't think we can rely on the villagers for this. We are already asking too much of..."

"We're not asking them anything," Maeve protested. "They're the ones who feel obliged to pay us in exchange for their lives."

"Yeah, we're only making the most of it," Janus insisted with a chuckle and some of the others agreed.

"As much as I know you all enjoy this...  _comfortable_  lifestyle, the fact that we get fed by humans ought to  _shame_ us, not amuse us," Fenrir spoke loudly, causing everyone to look down in embarrassment. "When in the past have werewolves ever been reticent to go and get what they need by themselves?" No one answered. "Thus, I suggest that we put together a series of hunting expeditions and catch some prey ourselves. We'll not only get enough furs for everyone in the pack, but we'll also have extra food, which, in weather like this, is never too much. Callan, Elwyn and Hagan, the tree of you will be coming with me this afternoon..."

Fenrir fell silent as a large Great Grey Owl emerged from the trees and swept through the clearing towards him. The wolves watched with wide eyes as the bird dropped a heavy envelope on the ground in front of the Alpha before perching itself on the top of a pine tree nearby. Fenrir picked up the envelope and looked at it carefully. "The meeting is over," he said distractedly, making his way towards his cave so that he could read the letter in private. "Be ready to leave in two hours... Loftr, feed the bird."

"What the hell was that?" Callan exclaimed, looking at the owl in disbelief.

"Fenrir's brother," Kolfinn explained, standing up, as Loftr headed towards the food cave to get something for the large owl that was now ruffling its feathers expectantly. "Smart guy, he is. He trained that bird to deliver letters. I can't believe it found us all the way here, though..."

Hagan's eyes met Osgar's briefly. They were the only ones present who knew what kind of person would use an owl to deliver messages.

 

 

Fenrir entered the Greyback cave at the speed of light. He barely noticed Yrsa, who was drying some clothes over the fire, and Antti and Alva, playing quietly in a corner with little wooden toys. He headed towards his corner of the cave, separated by a makeshift curtain, and sat down on a wooden bench near the smaller fire. He ripped the envelope open and took out the letter, written in his brother's familiar handwriting.

 

 

_Fenrir,_

_News has recently reached me of your pack's misfortune and I write to you with sadness in my heart, but I am relieved to know that both you and Yrsa and safe. Please give our sister all my love and sympathies for her son's untimely death. Word is spreading, now that some of your wolves have joined Emeric Gotfrei's pack, that you have left for Siberia with the intention of challenging Lucan Donegan. As newly appointed Head of the Werewolf Liaison Office at the Ministry of Magic in Britain, I have heard more than my share of atrocities about this particular Alpha and can only hope that you managed to win the fight and take over his pack. If not, whoever is reading this letter would be most considerate to inform me of the outcome of these events._

_Most of all, brother, I am writing to you, hoping that you are still alive, to inform you of the unfortunate situation I find myself in. The Ministry of Magic in Britain has finally fallen into the hands of the Dark Lord, whose name should not even be written. I have been put in charge of recruiting wolves to join his side, a task which I execute half-heartedly, believe me. All magical creatures are being rallied, but he pays a particular interest to us werewolves, for there are rumours that the Potter boy, who disappeared many years ago, might be one of us. In gathering all wolves to his side, he is hoping to find the boy and finish what he started. Have you heard of such a thing? I beg you to inform me if, in your travels these past months, you came across some information on that matter. I believe that if we are the ones to deliver the boy to him, the Dark Lord might show us mercy in the long run._

_Be safe._

_With all my love,_

_Your brother,_

_Felix_

_P.S. Enclosed is something for yours and your pack's protection. Use it well._

_  
_

_  
_

"Is that a letter from Felix?" Yrsa asked as she approached him tentatively.

"Yes," Fenrir said before handing her the parchment.

He turned back to the envelope and slipped his hand inside to find whatever had been enclosed. He took out a long, thin, wooden stick... a wand. Yrsa gasped when she saw it, but she didn't say anything, probably because she didn't want to attract her children's attention.

Once she'd finished reading the letter, she crouched next to him and whispered, "What will you do about Potter?" Fenrir stared at her in surprise. "I've noticed the scar, of course," she added.

"What do you expect me to do?" Fenrir hissed, suddenly furious. "You think I should hand him over to them? They would kill him!"

Yrsa shook her head and her blonde locks bounced around her face. "I didn't mean that," she reassured him, taking her brother's large hand into hers and leaning towards him. "I know you would never give him away. I know that you care about him... But you have to tell the pack, or tell the guard, at least. They have to know what it means to have him with us. You realise that if anyone finds out, we are all in danger..."

"Who's in danger, Mommy?" Alva asked suddenly from her side of the cave. Her eyes were wide as she stared at the two adults.

Yrsa laughed. "No one, Alva, honey... Mommy was just playing pretend with Uncle Fen..." But she shot her brother a warning glance before heading back to her kids. Of course, Fenrir knew she was right.

When Fenrir left the cave, the guard had retreated from the clearing, except for Loftr, who was feeding pieces of bread to the owl and Kolfinn, who was tending to the fires. He knew they were curious about what the letter contained and that's why they had stayed behind while the others went back into the caves to warm up. They were hoping he would fill them in as soon as he came out.

"Come here, you two!" he called and they immediately scurried over to him. He led them silently into the cave they used to stock the food, which no one ever entered except for Kolfinn, who was in charge of rationing the supplies. "I know you're both curious and you want to know what this is about."

"Why isn't the rest of the guard here, too?" Kolfinn asked with a frown.

"Because I've known you two long enough to be able to trust you with this," Fenrir said, hoping he was right to think that way. "I told you a few years ago of what is going on in Britain and you are aware of the existence of the magical world, for starters, and of my connections to it. My brother informs me that the Ministry of Magic has fallen and that the Dark Lord has taken over. He is recruiting werewolves to do his bidding."

"Is that what the letter is about? They want the pack to go over to the dark side?" Loftr asked and Fenrir could see the worry on his face.

"Not exactly... I think the letter is but a warning of what is to come. I hope I am right in saying that we are too far away from Britain for it to affect us just yet, but there is a possibility that we could be involved later on..." Fenrir rubbed his face. He was developing a headache already.

"What should we do, then?" Kolfinn wondered out loud.

"Hear me out, I'm not finished," Fenrir said with a deep sigh. "There is more you need to know. Years ago, when this Dark Lord was still active, he killed a lot of people. He literally would go on murdering rampages and kill everyone who refused to join him. One night he killed this couple and then tried to kill their son, a young infant, and the curse rebounded off him and destroyed the dark wizard's body. After that he disappeared for years. Ever since he managed to come back, he has been searching for this boy, to finish him off. The problem is that the boy, who was placed with relatives after his parents' deaths, disappeared long ago. Now, he is so eager to have the werewolves by his side because there are rumours that the reason the boy disappeared in the first place was because he was turned into one of us. The Dark Lord thinks that rallying the werewolves would make it easier to find this boy and kill him."

Fenrir fell silent, searching for the right words to finish his story. Loftr was looking at him suspiciously. "I have a feeling that there's something really important you're not telling us..." the old man said slowly. Fenrir sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"So, do you know anything about it? Is the boy a wolf?" Kolfinn asked carefully.

Fenrir nodded. "I have it on good authority that he is, yes," he said, cringing.

Loftr, of course, already understood everything. "Donegan started his pack in Britain. Which one of the kids is it?" he asked, shaking his head sadly.

"It's Hagan."

Kolfinn laughed bitterly. "Why am I not surprised?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Fenrir growled as he shot a dark look towards his brother-in-law.

"Can't you lust after someone normal, for once?" Kolfinn hissed madly. "If it was anyone but him, we could have just handed him over and been done with it, but now we'll have to fight those dark wizards and we don't stand a chance..."

"Shut up, Kol!" Loftr exclaimed. "The kid is a member of this pack! We don't just let our people get murdered..."

"They'll come after us!" Kolfinn yelled, his eyes dark with anger. "They won't leave us in peace until they get their hands on the boy. We don't do magic, we're no match for them. How many will die this time? We lost nine people already because of your desperate, goddamned need to find yourself a fuck toy!" Loftr jumped in between them, sensing danger. Fenrir looked ready to rip Kolfinn's throat off. "My son died, Fenrir! I held his dead body in my arms! I felt his blood on my hands! And I didn't say anything, but you know it was your fault! If you hadn't let that boy into our lives, it would have never happened! You swore you wouldn't let it happen again. If we keep Hagan with us, we're as good as dead already." And then, maybe because Kolfinn knew how angry Fenrir was and how close he was to fighting him, he stormed out of the cave.

Once he was sure that the Alpha wouldn't follow Kolfinn, Loftr sat down and sighed heavily. There was a moment of silence before he talked. "You know he's right about some of it..."

"I know," Fenrir groaned as he sat to face his old friend. "But I can't let them take him, Loftr. I would die before giving him away."

"Of course, and I would do the same. I've spent time with the kid on guard duty and I understand what you find in him. He reminds me of you when you were that age. He's a brave little thing if I ever saw one, smart and strong. Hell, even I wouldn't cross him. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that he went through some rough patches and I imagine it has to do with that bastard Lucan. No one can live in pack of wolves and have such an aversion to mating without someone else having something to do with it. That poor Osgar," he chuckled then, "who's been walking around for the last three weeks looking like a toddler who's lost his teddy bear."

"My brother sent me this," Fenrir said, taking the wand out of his pocket and showing it to Loftr.

"Is that one of those magic stick?" the old man asked curiously.

"We call it a  _wand_ ," Fenrir chuckled.

Loftr nodded, staring at the wand intriguingly. "Do you know how to use it?"

Fenrir frowned before sighing deeply. "Barely... I can't remember many spells. I wish I'd paid more attention to what my mother taught me when I was younger."

"I suppose the boy can't use it either? Lucan didn't look like the kind of guy to teach a kid magic spells in his free time."

"I don't think he can use it... But truthfully, I'm not sure he  _needs_  it. Just this morning I saw him light a fire with his bare hands," Fenrir recalled, wondering if Hagan would be able to manipulate magic in different ways.

Loftr snorted. "I can do that too, all you need is two branches and a shoelace..."

" _Without_  any of those," Fenrir groaned in annoyance.

"Oh...  _that_  could be useful."

"But it's the only thing he can do. I doubt shooting fire at people will save us if we're in danger, but it's a start," Fenrir sighed, twirling the wand between his fingers.

"But they don't know he'd with us, do they?" Loftr said, trying to sound hopeful.

Fenrir frowned and shot him a dark stare. "Loftr, you figured it out in five minutes. They know Donegan. He didn't exactly try to fly under the radar. They'll trace him back to us in a heartbeat."

"We've got at least ten kids around his age. He could be anyone. There's no way they can recognise him, is there?"

Fenrir sighed once again. "A scar on his forehead, that's where the dark curse hit him. One glance at it and they'll know."

Loftr looked at Fenrir with a lopsided grin. "You know, I was half-opposed to us coming here in the first place, but I didn't say anything because I know how you are when you've got something on your mind. But now I'm glad we did. Who knew things would get so interesting?"

"Have you gone mad? You don't even look pissed at this whole mess of a situation," Fenrir mumbled gruffly.

"Nah," Loftr said, shrugging. "We protect our own, don't we? That's what a pack does." He waved his hand dismissingly. "Let those magicians come for us. All we can do is fight the best we can and what will happen will happen. There's nothing we can do to stop fate."

 

 

Maeve sighed heavily. Once again she wished she'd been paired with Janus for guard duty, or even anyone else other than Osgar. They'd been gathering wood now for around twenty minutes, breaking branches and dumping them on the makeshift sleigh that they pulled behind them. If the cold wasn't enough to get on her nerves, the man's attitude was doing a good job of it. He hadn't said a word yet and was carelessly chopping branches here and there with a small hatchet, the violent noises echoing loudly through the silent woods. Of course she knew what this was about. He'd been that way for weeks now, ever since Hagan rejected him. She didn't know if this sombre mood was all about his heartache for Hagan or it part of it was from being humiliated in front of his friends. By now they all knew what lies Osgar had been telling Hagan and most of them thought it was uncalled for, but they felt that it wasn't really their business. Maeve had noticed, however, that Osgar didn't seem as popular as he had been when he first came back, when everybody considered him their saviour. Now he was all by himself most of the time.

Maeve cringed when the hatchet came a little too close to her head. "Osgar, for God's sake! Try not to decapitate me!" she cried.

Osgar turned towards her, moody and irritated. "Sorry," he groaned. "I hate this. I'd rather be hunting with the others..." he finished, mumbling.

Maeve rolled her eyes at this. He was acting like a child stuck doing chores instead of playing with his little friends. And it was obvious to her that if he wanted to be hunting so much it was only to keep an eye on Hagan. She couldn't help a wave of frustration from washing over her. "Look," she said suddenly, feeling it might be time for someone to talk to him frankly. "You have to snap out of this. Acting like a complete pain in the ass won't get you Hagan back. It's over and done so move on."

"I can't move on," Osgar hissed desperately, throwing the hatchet on top of the wood pile. "You don't understand! For three years, for three fucking years I've thought about nothing else. All the time I was gone I was trying to figure out how to come back and get rid of Lucan and..."

"And be with Hagan?" Maeve tried to soften her voice, not wanting to have to deal with an angry Osgar on top of it all. "He doesn't love you that way, Osgar. You can't decide everything for someone else. Life doesn't work like that. You can't make this kind of plan without knowing if the other person is okay with it."

"I thought I would be. I thought that with me gone for three years he would miss me..."

"Of course he missed you."

"I thought he would realise he loved me." She had never seen Osgar this way before. He looked ready to burst into tears any moment.

"He doesn't love you like that," she said, grabbing one of his large hands and patting it awkwardly. "But it doesn't mean that you can't be a part of his life. You've always been the most important person to him... and now because of your obsession you've lost him completely."

Suddenly, he grabbed her by the shoulders and whispered fiercely, "You have to help me, Maeve! You have to help me get him back!"

She freed herself from his grip, frowning. "I will do no such thing!" She couldn't believe he was actually thinking about giving it another try. "You've already humiliated yourself once, isn't that enough for you?"

"I don't care!" He exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. "I don't care about myself, I just..."

"Oh, you care  _only_  about yourself, Osgar. You don't even care about how Hagan feels or what he wants."

"He doesn't know what he wants yet... Lucan played mind games with him all those years. I've seen him do it plenty of times. Hagan is just scared, but I'll make him see that we're supposed to be together..."

Maeve shook her head sadly, disappointed in the older wolf's action. "You've going to get yourself killed if you keep going on like this, Osgar. You know the Alpha's got his eyes on Hagan..."

"Don't bring fucking Greyback into this! He's not even one of us!"

"He saved us!"

"I saved you! If it wasn't for me, you would all be miserable! Maybe you'd even be dead! You don't know what I sacrificed!"

"Oh and what exactly did you sacrifice? As far as I know you've been living pretty quietly with the Greyback pack for a good year while we had to put up with Lucan's insanity. You weren't there when he killed... no, when he  _executed_  Quinn and Rowan because they refused to fight each other, because they loved each other. You didn't have to live with that! It just seems to me that you took your time; like a pretty vacation, wasn't it?" Osgar couldn't find anything to say to that. Maeve shook her head, trying to stop tears from spilling from her eyes. "You do what you want, Osgar, but you leave me out of it," she finally mumbled before turning around and heading back to camp, leaving Osgar alone in the forest.

 

 

It was late in the afternoon when the four wolves on hunting duty finally came upon something. It had started snowing again about two hours ago and if they hadn't all been wearing a pair of rudely-fashioned snow rackets, they would be almost knee deep by then. The sun was slowly starting to set when they found a narrow opening on a hillside wall. They could hear groans coming from the inside and Callan smiled wickedly when he heard them.

"I think we'll be having bear for supper tonight," he said quietly, grinning like a madman. Icy snowflakes were stuck to the hair sticking out from under his hood and to his eyebrows. It made him look like the abominable snowman.

"You can't be serious," Elwyn hissed. "There could be six of them in there for all we know..."

"Exactly, isn't that just perfect?"

"There are only  _four_  of us! No matter how many bears are in there, if we kill one we'll have to kill the others or we won't get out alive. And how are we supposed to carry them all back to camp?"

Callan sighed frustratingly and turned towards the Alpha, who was watching them argue with a small smile on his face. "You see! We shouldn't have brought him along. He thinks too much!"

"You're lucky I think too much! Otherwise you'd have just barged in there and you'd be dead meat already. And keep your voice down or you'll wake up the lot of them."

Fenrir left them to it, knowing that the only way the twins would stop bickering was if they ran out of arguments. Hagan had stopped a good thirty feet behind them, struggling with his left racket.

"It keeps falling off," he groaned as Fenrir reached him. The Alpha bent down to check and found that the leather strap was almost worn out and the buckle had fallen off. Fenrir rummaged through the numerous pockets on his coat and took out a long piece of string that he wrapped in an intricate way around Hagan's boot and onto the racket.

"There," he said with a smile as he stood. "It should hold on for the trip back."

"Thank you," Hagan said softly, admiring his work. Then he rubbed his hands together and grimaced painfully. "My fingers are frozen," he admitted, embarrassed.

Fenrir frowned, and stepping closer, removed Hagan's old gloves and examined his fingers. They were starting to turn blue at the tips. The Alpha removed his own gloves and wrapped the young man's fingers in his own, bringing his hands to his mouth and blowing on them gently. Their eyes met and for a long moment they stared at each other in silence. Fenrir could feel Hagan's hands trembling slightly in his grip. Then suddenly, Hagan removed his hands, and after a hesitant pause, he grabbed Fenrir by his wrist and pulled him to the right, inside the trees, away from the track and out of sight form the twins.

Fenrir's heart raced in his chest as they ran through the trees as fast as the snow rackets would let them. When they finally came to a stop, he pushed Hagan gently against a large tree, and smiling softly, pushed the hood away from the young man's face before caressing his cheek. Hagan's eyes were sparkling as he stared at the Alpha, his face flushed from the cold and the run.

"We got interrupted this morning," Fenrir said, his voice slightly husky as their faces came closer. He was just about to kiss Hagan when he saw the look in the boy's eyes. They were wide and almost fearful, but still he didn't move away. Fenrir pulled back. "Do I scare you? Do you think I would hurt you?" he spoke quietly, his hand cradling the back of Hagan's head.

"I'm not afraid of you," Hagan said, looking away. He felt terribly small suddenly. "There's... nothing you can do to me... that hasn't been done before," he stammered.

Fenrir felt a ball of anger erupt inside his chest and his fist punched the tree above Hagan's shoulder as he let out a groan of fury. "Lucan?" he growled, staring deep into Hagan's eyes. And the young man could only nod as tears started spilling from his eyes. Fenrir pulled him into his arms tightly, breathing in deeply to try and calm himself. He had never felt so enraged in his entire life. Hagan sobbed into his chest, silently and helplessly, like someone who has held every bad thing that ever happened to them inside for too long. Fenrir felt like he could rip the trees out from the ground in anger.

"When?" he asked fiercely.

"I was... sixteen..." Hagan managed between sobs.

But as angry as Fenrir felt, there was still nothing he could do. He'd already killed the man. If only he'd known everything Lucan Donegan had done back then. The bastard deserved to die slowly with torture, not in a fair fight. When Hagan's body stopped trembling, Fenrir pulled the boy's face away from his chest to wipe the tears before they froze.

"I would never hurt you," he said softly, fighting the urge to kiss Hagan's trembling lips.

"I know," the boy said and there was the shadow of a smile on his face.

Fenrir gently brushed the tousled hair away from the boy's forehead. Suddenly he felt shy like a teenager again. "All my life, all fifty-six years of it..." he started, searching for the right words. "I have never seen anything as beautiful as you. You are everything I've ever wanted and everything I thought I would never find. And yes," he said, looking deeply into Hagan's eyes, "I want you to be mine, but I also want to be yours. I would never force you. One word from you, one word and I will back down. If you don't want me, you can say it right now and I promise I'll leave you alone. But... but I beg you to consider it. I would never hurt you. I would always protect you. I would never look down upon you. You would be my equal and the beta to my pack."

Hagan grabbed Fenrir's hand that was resting on the side of his face and held it there, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he was smiling. "I'm scared like a child right now," he whispered. His eyes were so wide and innocent that Fenrir suddenly remembered how young Hagan really was. "I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you."

For a minute Fenrir's breath froze inside his throat. "Is that a yes?" he choked out, making the boy laugh and it was the most beautiful sound in the world.

"Yes," Hagan whispered quite shyly. "But I..."

Fenrir nodded quickly, already knowing what he was going to say. "We'll take it slow, whatever you want. I promise not to put one toe out of line," Fenrir rushed. "And you can hit me if I do anything inappropriate..."

Hagan chuckled and wrapped his arms around the Alpha happily. "There's one more thing though," he said.

"What?"

"We don't tell anyone until Osgar knows," Hagan demanded. "And I want to be the one to tell him."

And Fenrir could only accept. He was so happy at that moment that if Hagan had asked for the moon, he would have fetched it for him.


	7. The Ceremony

_"Life swarms with innocent monsters."_

-Charles Baudelaire

 

THE STORM PICKED up rapidly and the wolves on hunting duty had to make their way back towards the camp empty-handed. Snow seemed to be coming from all directions, carried around by a merciless wind piercing the skin like sharp needles. The journey back was hard and seemed much longer. Hagan wondered many times exactly how far into the woods they had gone. He was used to travelling in bad weather after all those years of nomadic living, but it didn't mean he enjoyed it. Callan and Elwyn were still arguing about the bear cave, but since they were walking a fair way ahead of him, he was spared their endless bickering. He tried to focus on walking, and he started counting his steps – an old trick to distract himself from the cold. The Alpha was walking beside him, glancing his way now and then with worry. If it had been anyone else, Hagan would have probably found this very annoying, but he didn't mind Fenrir staring at him.

"I'm okay, you know," Hagan said with a smile, raising his voice so that the Alpha could hear him over the whistling of the wind. "I'm not going to fall over or anything. I've seen worse weather than this."

"I find it hard to believe," Fenrir answered, but he smiled back.

"Life with Lucan was full of adventures," Hagan explained, recalling many hard travels into the snowy mountains, and down narrow creeks and swarming marshes. Fenrir groaned at the mention of the dead Alpha and Hagan quickly changed the subject. "I wanted to ask you what that letter was about."

"It was from my brother," Fenrir explained shortly, obviously still thinking of all the terrible things he could be doing to Lucan Donegan if he hadn't already killed him.

"That's what the others said, but you never told me that your brother was a wizard... Or is he? As far as I know, only wizards use owls to deliver post," Hagan pointed out.

"You're right. He lives in the magical world. He is... into politics, you might say."

"Oh, is he someone important?" Hagan inquired curiously.

"I suppose he is," Fenrir said. "But I don't know enough about wizarding hierarchy to be able to tell. And Felix always loved all the attention, so he might be making up half the stuff he tells me." He doubted that his brother had been exaggerating in his last letter since it treated of such serious matters, but Fenrir didn't want to alert Hagan to the danger they were in just yet.

"Does he ever come to visit you?" Hagan asked again. He sounded sincerely interested in hearing more about Fenrir's brother. In fact, he had heard from Loftr that they were very different and had never gotten along well when they were young. Apparently, their animosity hadn't changed as they got older.

"Never," Fenrir said. "I think Felix never forgave me for leaving my father's pack to start my own. I don't understand what business that would be of his, because he never really cared about the pack in the first place. He chose magic instead. He was gone all year and only returned in the summer, but even those visits stopped at some point. He thought I would forever stay with our parents while he went and became successful. In my opinion, it was pure selfishness on his part. Felix always hated when things didn't go his way. After my mother's death, I couldn't stay with my pack any longer. I left to start my own. Loftr came with me, along with Yrsa. I haven't seen my brother since then. It's been sixteen years." Remembering his father or his brother was never a joyful thing for Fenrir, but if he was going to become Hagan's mate sometime in the future, the young man had a right to know about such things. "My brother keeps me up to date with what happens in the wizarding world. He holds a high position amongst werewolves over there and had heard about me challenging Donegan. He wanted to know the outcome of the fight," Fenrir finished.

"And what  _is_  happening in the magical world?" Hagan asked, trying to be casual about it but failing miserably.

"Nothing much," Fenrir lied. "Always politics and trying to keep Muggles from discovering their existence... Muggles are what wizards call people with no magic," he explained when Hagan raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't know that.  _Muggles_ , right? It's a strange word."

"Wizards are generally strange people," Fenrir admitted.

"Your father, is he still alive?" Hagan asked again. Talking had done a good job in distracting him from the cold as he walked, and when he looked up, it seemed that he could recognise some of the trees. They might be nearing the camp.

"He died a few years later. I don't know exactly what happened, but what remained of his pack is now spread all over Europe." When he saw that Hagan was frowning at the casual tone in his voice, he explained, "There are more wolves like Lucan in this world than there ought to be."

"Your father was like Lucan?" Hagan said quietly, in shock.

"Towards the end of his life, he was. After my mother's death, he was never quite himself again. There were many born wolves in his pack, powerful wolves, and he started thinking that they were planning to overthrow him. When he turned on me, thinking that I was scheming to kill him, it was the last straw. That's when I left. Traditionally, I was supposed to take his place after his death, being the eldest son, but I would have never killed him to make it happen faster. As crazy as my father had become, he was still my father. I had no desire to fight him. Sometimes leaving is the best decision you can make. From what I heard, most of the pack deserted him shortly after I departed."

"It must be hard for you to know that your home pack has been separated like that," Hagan said sadly.

Fenrir smiled and caught the young man's hand in his. " _This_  is my home pack now. And it's much better, because you are in it."

Hagan smiled and opened his mouth to say something, but he was cut off by Callan, who yelled at them from the front of the group. "Hey, you two lovebirds! Quit flirting and keep up!"

Hagan blushed and Fenrir groaned dangerously at Callan, who suddenly seemed to remember who he was shouting at and quickened his pace. They kept walking, all eager to reach the camp so they could warm up and get some well-deserved sleep. The sun had set long ago and the snow-laden trees around them cast ominous shadows on their surroundings.

"And your mother, how was she?" Hagan asked softly, almost shyly.

Fenrir smiled at him. "Yrsa is a lot like her. She was very beautiful and delicate, but she could put my father back in his place faster than it took for him to notice. She was a strong woman with a pure heart. I never went to school but she taught me to read and write. She told me about the world and the people, about the stars and about magic, too. She taught me to speak Norwegian so that the roots of her family would not be lost. I was named after Fenrirsulfr, the great wolf of Norse mythology."

For the rest of the trip, Hagan relished the tales of Fenrir's childhood, forgetting about the cold and the pain in his limbs. When finally they reached the familiar clearing, they were glad to see that Loftr had kept the large fire burning. Callan, Elwyn and Hagan stepped eagerly out of their snow rackets and ran towards it to get some warmth, removing their gloves and rubbing their hands together near the flames.

"Where is the prey?" Loftr asked, frowning when Fenrir approached him.

"We couldn't bring back any, we got caught in the storm. We did find a cave that appears to be full of mountains bears, but there weren't enough of us to bring them back. I think we'll return tomorrow with more wolves... Hey, listen," he told his friend in a low voice, "is the fire still burning in Bannock's cave?"

"Yeah, I just checked on it a little while ago," Loftr said, raising an eyebrow at the secretive tone.

"Good. Can you go to my cave and ask Yrsa to give you a good fur and then go back and put it near the fire in Bannock's?"

"You plan on sleeping in there with the old man?" Loftr asked, amused.

"Not me, but Hagan will. There's no way he will keep sharing his sleeping cot with any of these perverted wolves if I can help it," Fenrir announced darkly.

Loftr smiled up at him. "So you finally made your move, did you?"

Fenrir shushed him quickly. "He doesn't want anyone to know just yet. He wants to tell Osgar first. I'm not too happy with that, but I thought I better accept his conditions anyway..."

Loftr chuckled. "That kid already has you wrapped around his little finger," he said before heading towards Fenrir's cave.

Groaning, the Alpha approached Callan, Elwyn and Hagan, who were huddled next to the fire, speaking in hushed voices. They fell silent when they saw him. "Why don't you two go get ready for bed?" he said coldly to the twins who were grinning at him knowingly. They scurried towards the caves without a word, but Fenrir thought he heard a few catcalls coming from their retreating forms. "What happened to keeping this quiet for now?" he asked Hagan, irritated.

"It's not my fault. We weren't exactly subtle back there. They suspected something. They know me too well, I can't lie to them," Hagan said softly. "Are you mad at me?"

"No..."

"Then I'll go to bed, too, if you don't mind," Hagan said, smiling.

Fenrir caught his arm before he could leave. "You will be staying in Bannock's cave from now on," he said, trying not to make it sound too much like an order, for he knew Hagan wouldn't take it well.

"Why?" the young wolf inquired. There was already a note of defiance in his voice.

"You agreed to become his assistant..." Fenrir explained.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I have to  _live_  with him," Hagan said dryly. "What is this  _really_  about?"

Fenrir had to suppress a groan. He should have known that Hagan wouldn't make this easy for him. "You can't expect me to let my mate share another wolf's bed."

Hagan smiled bitterly. "Callan is my  _friend_ , and let me remind you that I'm not your mate  _yet_."

" _Exactly_ , and until it is official, you'll stay in Bannock's cave," Fenrir hissed. "And that's settled."

Hagan removed his arm from the Alpha's grip and threw him a hateful look. "I suppose I will get my things, then," he spat before leaving.

Fenrir sighed heavily and followed after him, but while the young black-haired wolf entered the largest cave, Fenrir headed to the right and entered Bannock's cave, the smallest of the five. The fire was roaring inside and Loftr was already spreading a thick fur on the ground.

"When I said it was for the boy, Yrsa gave me those, too," he said, pointing to a stack of neatly folded hand-made blankets when Fenrir stepped inside. Loftr paused as he saw the look on the Alpha's face and he grinned. "I take it he wasn't happy with the new sleeping arrangements."

Fenrir sent him a dark glare. "You're a fucking genius, aren't you?" he groaned, annoyed.

"Isn't it a bit early for the first lovers' quarrel?" Loftr asked, raising an eyebrow as he unfolded the first blanket.

"It wasn't a quarrel," the Alpha snapped, "merely a disagreement."

"You should know to expect a lot of disagreements though. One would have thought you knew what you were signing up for," the older wolf commented casually.

"Mind your own business, Loftr," Fenrir said dangerously. As much as he usually didn't mind the way Loftr always treated him as an equal, it was sometimes very annoying. He'd rarely ever had to put him back in his place. How he dealt with his mate, however, wasn't a subject up for discussion. "What's that smell?" Fenrir asked when he suddenly caught a strong scent that seemed to be slowly filling the cave.

"That's piss," Hagan announced as he entered suddenly and dropped his duffle bag on the ground near the entrance. Both men raised their eyebrows at him and he nodded towards the spot where Bannock lay, twitching and humming on the ground. "He's not exactly conscious, but his body's still working." He looked pointedly at Fenrir as he talked, letting him know this was one of the reasons he was so opposed to sleeping in this cave. "If you stay around long enough, you might be able to catch number two..."

" _Fine_ , I get it," Fenrir said begrudgingly amongst Loftr's guffaws. Frowning, he turned towards the older man. "Oh, you think this is funny, don't you?" He had to suppress an evil grin. "I'll tell you what, since you're so amused, why don't you fetch some water and clean him up?"

Loftr groaned, but he knew there was no arguing about this. He had offended Fenrir earlier and was now paying the price for it. He threw the last blanket haphazardly on the makeshift bed and left the cave. Without looking at Fenrir, Hagan removed his heavy jacket and dropped it on top of the old wooden bench. Then he removed his boots slowly and settled them on the ground near the entrance. When he took his bag and made his way towards the pile of blankets, his wet woollen socks left damp spots on the stone floor.

"I don't like fighting with you," Fenrir said softly, as he approached the boy. When Hagan turned to face him, the Alpha engulfed him in his arms, bending his neck to rest his stubbled chin on top of the young man's head. A few seconds passed before he felt Hagan's arms wrap around him.

"I don't like it either," Hagan mumbled against him.

Fenrir stepped back slightly and caught his future mate's chin between his fingers. "You won't make this whole thing easy on me, will you?" he asked with a smile.

Hagan was not amused, but he gave him a weak smile in response. "Can't I just take those over to the cave and sleep with my friends?" he asked softly, nodding towards the blankets.

Fenrir shook his head, just as Loftr was coming back, holding a large pot filled with steaming water and a large towel. "No, you will sleep in here. That's non-negotiable. You have your conditions and I respect them, but this is  _my_  condition. I want you in here, safe, where I know nobody will..."

"But anyone could just walk in here anyway..." Hagan protested.

"Who's on duty tonight, Loftr?" Fenrir asked the man who had started peeling the clothes off the twitching shaman, wrinkling his nose at the strong scent of urine coming from the old man.

"Janus and Elwyn," Loftr answered very quickly, as if he didn't want to open his mouth longer than necessary. He barely seemed to be breathing at all.

"I'll talk to them," Fenrir told Hagan. "No one will be allowed to set foot in here until morning."

"Does that include you?" Hagan asked dryly, looking up at the Alpha.

Fenrir raised an eyebrow at the question. "Why would you want that?" he asked softly.

"Well, I would feel safer knowing that  _you_  won't try anything while I'm sleeping..."

Fenrir cleared his throat embarrassingly. Loftr laughed loudly when he heard the words and the Alpha sent a warning glare his way but the older man didn't see it because he now had his back to them. Fenrir knew that Hagan was testing his patience, but he was too tired to play this game.

"Fine, if that's what you want, that also goes for me. Now just get ready for bed," he said before heading towards Loftr, who was staring at the old shaman in disgust

Hagan slowly stripped and spread his damp clothes near the fire to dry. He was still very upset with these arrangements, but the look on Fenrir's face when he'd demanded that even the Alpha stay away from the cave made him feel a little better. Hagan had learned to relish the small victories. He slipped in between the blankets and turned towards the fire, watching the flames dance for a little while. Soon he was struggling to keep his eyes open. Tired and terribly comfortable in his new bedding, he finally shut his eyes, letting himself be lulled to sleep by the crackling of the flames and the soft whispers coming from Loftr and Fenrir.

 

The next morning Hagan was awakened very early by Fenrir. It was barely daylight and he wondered if the Alpha had been waiting near the entrance until sunrise so he'd be allowed to come in.

"What is it?" Hagan asked, his voice heavy with sleep as the man knelt down next to him. He felt Fenrir's hand brush away hair from his face and he moaned and shifted away in annoyance. The man chuckled at this.

"Not a morning person, are you?"

"Better get used to it..." Hagan mumbled, turning his back to him.

"We're going back for the bears," Fenrir informed him, putting a gentle hand on top of the blankets where his shoulder was.

Hagan blinked and grudgingly sat up. "Pass me my bag over there?" he asked the man, pointing towards his left while he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Fenrir reached for the duffle bag and dragged it near the blankets. "I'll be ready in five minutes," Hagan explained with a yawn.

"Don't you want to keep sleeping?" Fenrir asked gently.

He looked at the Alpha with a frown on his face. "I'm not going with you?"

"You came yesterday. There are plenty of others who can help. You need to rest, you're still exhausted..."

Hagan frowned. Suddenly he felt wide awake. "Don't tell me what I am and what I'm not," he said dryly.

Fenrir sighed. "Hagan... I didn't mean to upset you..."

"I'm not upset," the young wolf snapped.

" _Clearly_..." Fenrir sneered at him, irritated. "Look, just keep sleeping. We'll talk about this when I get back," he said in a tone that left no place for arguing. Sighing, he stood and headed towards the entrance. "I'm leaving Osgar here so you can talk to him. Get it over with today." He turned to leave, but then looked over his shoulder and added, as a warning, "And if he lays one hand on you, I'll kill him myself."

Hagan brought the blankets over his head and lay silent, staring into the darkness. No matter how comfortable he was, he didn't feel like sleeping anymore. There was something, like a little voice in the back of his head, whispering to him, making him realise things he didn't want to know. It had hardly been a few hours since he'd agreed to become Fenrir's mate, and already he didn't like the outcome of it. Was it just because their relationship was new that the Alpha acted this way, or would he be ordered around like that even after their mating ceremony? Hadn't it been a little early to accept the proposal? Maybe he should have waited. He didn't know the man that well... in fact he didn't really know him at all. He had never been treated this way by Fenrir before. Maybe it was always like this at first. Yes, surely he was overreacting. But then again, Maeve and Janus weren't acting this way, as far as he knew. And it hadn't been like that for Quinn and Rowan. Maybe it was just like that with the Alphas. Was it a good idea to mate with one?

He stayed that way for a while, struggling to shut down his thoughts and trying to ignore the little voice in his mind telling him that this wasn't what he wanted. He heard a shift coming from the entrance of the cave and Maeve's voice pulled him from his internal dilemma.

"Hagan?" she whispered as he heard her approaching.

"I'm not sleeping," he said as he pulled the covers back. He turned to the girl who smiled at him.

"The guard has changed this morning," she informed him, sitting down on the small wooden bench. "Fenrir switched the pairs a little. You and I are a team now! Isn't that great?"

So Hagan would now keep guard with Maeve instead of Loftr, who would be with Osgar. Hagan was already confused and on edge, and impulsively, he could think of only one reason why Fenrir would pair  _him_  with the only female of the guard. "For fuck's sake!" he exclaimed, sitting up suddenly. "It was Loftr! His best friend! As if  _Loftr_  would even think about me that way! He's gone completely _mad_!"

"What are you talking about?" Maeve replied dryly. "This is about  _me_ , not you! I have my mating ceremony coming up, remember? Do you think Janus would let me keep guard with an unmated wolf after that?"

"Well I am an unmated wolf, too!" Hagan protested angrily.

To his surprise, Maeve burst out laughing. "As if  _you_  could ever do anything to me! I would kick your ass before you even had a chance to  _think_  about it." Hagan rubbed his face, suddenly embarrassed by his outburst. Maeve frowned at him. "So it's true what I heard then? That Fenrir finally asked you?"

"Did the twins tell you that? I told them to keep it quiet. I don't want Osgar to find out before I can tell him myself..."

"Oh, don't worry," she grinned as she waved a lazy hand dismissively. "Osgar is so clueless he wouldn't figure it out even if you put it on a banner in the middle of the clearing. Oh, I'm so happy for you!" she exclaimed but she interrupted herself when she saw the look on his face. "What's wrong? Did he force you to accept?" she asked softly.

"No..." he said, shivering as he reached inside his duffle bag and rummaged around for a dark green long-sleeved shirt that he pulled on top of his worn t-shirt. "But ever since I said yes, it's like he's not the same anymore. He keeps ordering me around. He made me settle in here because he says he doesn't want me sleeping around the others. And he didn't want me to go hunting this morning either... And then he goes and changes the guard..."

Maeve smiled softly. "Hagan, you'll be his mate soon, of course he will be possessive for a while. But that's only because he cares about you and he wants you safe. He'll act like that for some time and eventually he will get back to his old self. Janus was the same for a few days after I accepted his proposal. And I expect it will probably be worse for Fenrir because it's taken him so much time to find a mate. He doesn't want to lose you."

"But I'm not going anywhere. All I want is to be able to do things my way..." Hagan started desperately.

Maeve interrupted him with a frustrated sigh. "Life is like that! I don't understand why you  _always_  have to complicate everything. You can't do whatever you want! There's always going to be someone higher than you giving orders and you have to follow! You just have to live with it..."

"Maybe  _you_  can live with it, but  _I_  can't. I'm sick of having to fight all the time."

"Then just stop! Stop fighting! This is how the pack works, there's nothing you can do! The only one who can do whatever they want is the Alpha, and you're not the Alpha, and you'll never be. The Alpha has the authority. The rest of us just follow. If we didn't have this, it would be chaos. And you've seen what it's like when even the Alpha loses it, when the Alpha starts doing whatever he wants. Fenrir Greyback is a good man. We all see it. You, out of everyone else, should know this. If you don't want to be his mate, then just tell him so and stop complaining already!"

Hagan was silent for a few seconds. "I want to," he protested. "I... I like him..."

"Then that should be enough," she said more softly. "Just give it a shot, will you? This place isn't so bad." She gestured to the cave around them. "At least no one will bother you or steal any of your things. You basically have a whole cave to yourself." She gave him an encouraging smile. "Just try to see this in a positive light. I'm sure everything will work out in the end."

Hagan just nodded silently and managed a weak smile. At this point he just wanted her to stop talking, but yelling at her probably wouldn't do any good. Thinking she'd convinced him to stop worrying, Maeve then launched into detailed explanations of what her mating ceremony would be like. She had been up since dawn discussing traditions with Yrsa and Janus's mother, Janka. She told him how they'd settled for something simple and fairly quick. They weren't very fond of those big ceremonies pureblood werewolves usually had. Hagan nodded once or twice, pretending to listen to her as he slowly got dressed. He'd just remembered he had to talk to Osgar before Fenrir got back from the hunt and he realised he really didn't feel like confronting the blonde wolf that day. But then again, if Fenrir returned and he hadn't made things clear with Osgar, there was a chance that they would fight again.

Maeve finally left him alone when they stepped outside. She headed back to her cave, surely to bother someone else with her ceremony. For a moment Hagan felt guilty for his lack of interest, but when he looked around the clearing he forgot about it. The few remaining wolves, the ones who hadn't been picked for the hunting trip, were busy clearing the snow. He sighed frustratingly when he saw that neither Callan nor Elwyn were present. The fact that  _they_  had been hunting yesterday hadn't stopped them from joining the expedition today. He did see Osgar though. As promised by Fenrir, he had been left behind. He didn't seem too happy about it either. The sun was strong and blinding despite the cold and Hagan searched the pockets of his coat, taking out his sunglasses and setting them on his face before walking up to Osgar.

The older wolf was busy shovelling snow. There was a deep frown on his face and Hagan recalled it had been there for a while. He hadn't seen him smile for weeks now. Trying not to feel guilty, he stopped a few feet away from him. Osgar threw him a quick glance out of the corner of his eye, but he kept shovelling in silence.

"Can we talk?" Hagan asked after a moment.

Osgar snorted. "So  _now_  you want to talk, do you?" he said disdainfully but his voice was quiet.

"Osgar..." Hagan started but the older wolf cut him off immediately.

"What? You don't feel like yelling at me in front of everyone today?"

Hagan sighed. He should have known this conversation wouldn't be easy. He brought this on himself. "Osgar, please, just give me five minutes, would you? I really want to talk to you. Just five minutes, and then you can go back to being a complete arse!"

Osgar stopped and leaned heavily on the handle of the shovel. He searched Hagan's face suspiciously for a moment before his expression softened. "Fine," he said.

"Thank you. Come with me, then," the younger wolf said before leading Osgar back towards the shaman's cave. "I live here now," Hagan explained as they entered and Osgar immediately spotted his things on the ground.

"Oh," was Osgar's only reply.

"Because I'm going to be Bannock's assistant," he announced.

"I know. I'm the one who suggested it, remember?" Osgar said and there was a small smile on his face. "But that's not what you wanted to tell me, is it?"

Hagan shook his head quietly, trying to find the right words. "I really wanted to talk to you. These past few weeks have been hard on you and I know I am responsible for that. I handled things in the worst way possible, but I just didn't know what to do anymore. You left me no other choice, Osgar..."

"I only want to be with you," Osgar said softly, and Hagan closed his eyes with a sigh.

"It will not happen, Osgar. There might have been a time when it could have been possible, but that was years ago. Too many things happened while you were gone, things I want to forget, things that..." He paused for a moment, fighting the tears that were threatening to fall from his eyes. "You just weren't there. And you should have been, but you weren't... It's not your fault. I know you had to leave, but... You weren't there when I needed you, and that's why I can never be with you."

"What happened?" Osgar asked softly. "What did that bastard do to you?" But judging from the look of fury in his eyes, he already knew.

Hagan sat down on the wooden bench. He couldn't see much in the darkness of the cave. The fire was slowly dying and he hadn't removed his sunglasses yet because it gave him an excuse not to look Osgar in the eye. Still, he stared at the ground as he spoke.

"It was a week after you left," he started softly as Osgar sat next to him. "Lucan thought I was turning everyone against him. He was half right, though. I was already thinking about it, but I hadn't done anything yet, I hadn't told anyone. One night he... he dragged me into the woods, far away from the camp while everyone else was asleep. He started yelling at me, saying it was my fault, that I was the one who convinced you to fight him."

Hagan raised his head slightly and from the corner of his eye he saw that Osgar's fist had turned white from clutching the hem of his coat tightly. His breathing was also heavier, but he didn't say a word while Hagan continued.

"I thought he was going to kill me, but he was just screaming and then he held me down and... he ripped my clothes off. I tried to scream, but he was pushing my face into the dirt and... I tried to fight him but he was too strong. I called for you, because you told me years ago that you wouldn't let him hurt me, so I called out for you... I don't know why... Maybe I thought you weren't really gone, that you were just following us, watching from afar. I thought maybe you would save me..."

Hagan stopped talking and in the silence that followed he heard Osgar's quiet sobs. He removed his sunglasses to wipe at his own eyes. "I'm not saying that I'm holding you responsible for what happened, Osgar. It wasn't your fault. But you see... this is why I can't be with you." He reached out and unclenched Osgar's fingers, taking the blonde wolf's hand in his. "Because every time I look at you, I think about this..."

"I... I am... so sorry..." Osgar cried in between heavy sobs and he wrapped his arms around Hagan, holding him tightly and sobbing heavily into the young wolf's shoulder. "Oh... God... I'm so sorry..."

"It's not your fault..." Hagan started.

Osgar took his face in his hands. "It is my fault," he whispered weakly, tears still streaming from his eyes. "I've ruined everything we had. I never should have left you."

"You didn't have a choice. You couldn't know..."

"I've always known. I've seen the way he looked at you, even when you were younger, when you were too young for anyone to look at you yet. I knew someday he would try something, but I thought I would be there to stop him. I never should have left you," Osgar moaned weakly.

"If you'd stayed he would have killed you," Hagan said, this throat tight with emotions.

"I would die for you in a second," Osgar said fiercely, pressing his forehead against Hagan's.

"I know, Osgar... and this is also why I wanted to talk to you..." he replied carefully.

Osgar pulled away and stared somewhat suspiciously at his friend. "It's about Greyback, isn't it?" he whispered dangerously. "I've seen him watching you... I'll take care of it..."

Hagan caught his wrist before he could stand up and leave. Knowing Osgar, he would run through the woods until he caught up with the hunting party just to provoke Fenrir. "It's not that, Osgar. He hasn't done anything wrong... In fact... it's quite the opposite. I... I wanted to tell you first."

"What are you saying?" Osgar asked quietly with dread in his voice.

"Fenrir asked me to be his mate, Osgar. And I said yes."

"When?" the older wolf said. His face looked emotionless.

"Last night."

There was a long silence, and when Hagan turned to look at Osgar, he found him staring straight ahead, his gaze resting on the Bannock, whose body was twitching slightly on the ground.

"Please change your mind," Osgar said finally in a very weak and broken voice. "I swear I can make things right. I promise you. I won't let anyone hurt you ever again, just... Please...I'll take everything away..."

"You can't undo what's happened, Osgar..."

"But I love you..." he said, and Hagan saw just one tear slide down his cheek and he looked away, feeling guilty. "I've never loved anyone else but you... ever..."

"And I love you, too, but... I'm sorry..."

"And you love him?" Osgar asked more loudly, turning his head to look at Hagan disbelievingly. "You barely know him. How could you say yes so easily? He's nothing but a stranger to you. You can't mate with an Alpha, Hagan. That's not how you are. He's going to make life impossible for you..."

Hagan turned away, clenching his jaw as Osgar voiced his own worries desperately. "I know what I want and I want Fenrir," he said stubbornly.

"Fine," Osgar said, standing up and looking down at his friend with fury in his eyes. "But don't come running to me when it all falls apart." And a few seconds later he had left the cave, leaving Hagan along in the dark with only his thoughts and the unconscious shaman to keep him company.

 

 

Later that day, the hunters returned with four brown bears. The animals were quite large, but the wolves all looked slightly disappointed with their prey, for they had expected more. Even though most of them had settled in Lake Baikal often over the years, they didn't know the region well in terms of hunting spots.

That night, when everyone gathered around the large fire to eat, Callan and Elwyn loudly recalled how they had been the ones to kill the largest bear. They re-enacted the whole scene in detail, sparing no theatrics, to Antti and Alva's great delight. The two kids laughed and shouted happily with them and soon the clearing was filled with gleeful exclamations and the pack's mood lifted despite the cold.

Hagan was talking quietly with Loftr when Fenrir joined them. The Alpha sat next to the young wolf, and even though Hagan was still upset about that morning, and still doubting he'd made the right decision, he smiled at Fenrir who smiled back, relieved.

"From the murderous looks Osgar has been throwing my way since I got back, I take it you talked to him," the Alpha whispered in Hagan's ear as Loftr moved away to give them some privacy.

"Yes, this morning," Hagan said quietly as he kept eating.

"And how did he react?" Fenrir asked almost eagerly.

Hagan sneered. "Can't you guess?"

"Yes, but what did he say exactly?"

"That I was crazy for accepting you as my mate so quickly, that I barely know you, that you would make my life impossible... Generally, that he was a much better choice. Oh... and to not come crying on his shoulder when things don't work out between us." Fenrir was silent, a shocked expression on his face. "It was pretty much how I expected him to react," Hagan shrugged.

"It's not his place to judge whether we will work out or not," Fenrir said angrily. "I'll go talk to him..."

Hagan stopped him. "There's no need. He only said that because he was upset. You've already won, there's no need to go rub it in his face."

"You're right." Fenrir sighed, but his eyes still rested on Osgar, who was sitting farther away. "How are you doing in all this?"

"I'm fine," Hagan lied before lowering his voice. "I told him about what happened with Lucan. I thought it might help him understand how I feel. I thought it could make things easier..."

"And did it work?" Fenrir asked softly, taking Hagan's hand in his own and squeezing it reassuringly.

"I think it just made things worse. Now, on top of everything else, he's feeling guilty that he wasn't there to stop it. I think he wants to prove himself worthy or something like that... Quite honestly, I don't know what to expect..." Fenrir didn't reply, but he looked very thoughtful. "What are  _you_  going to do now?" Hagan asked, eager to change the subject of the conversation. "I know you're not satisfied just with those bears. Are you going to go back tomorrow?"

"Not tomorrow," Fenrir said, coming out of his silent reflections. "We have a ceremony in two days and we have preparations to make. We can organise another hunt after. In the morning I will send the twins to catch the doe for the sacrifice, and..." He interrupted himself when he saw Hagan yawn widely. "Did you sleep at all this morning after I left?"

"No," Hagan admitted. "I was too mad at you."

Fenrir shook his head, and with a small smile, he said, "Well, we better get you to bed, then." He stood up and took Hagan's hand and led the way towards the caves. The others watched them go but no one said a word.

"Are you going to tuck me in?" Hagan asked with a silly grin as they entered the shaman's cave.

Fenrir wrapped his arms around Hagan's waist and brought their bodies closer, bending his head to press their lips together softly. The younger wolf responded by standing on tiptoes to deepen the kiss, letting his fingers tangle into Fenrir's greying hair.

"I want you so much," Fenrir whispered huskily, pulling back to breathe in Hagan's scent deeply.

"I want you, too," Hagan said quietly as he recalled Osgar's words earlier that day. If he really wanted things to work out between them, he had to try this. A man like Fenrir, an experienced man, would surely want a mate who didn't panic every time he approached him. A man like the Alpha would want someone bold and fierce and fearless when it came to sex. He was embarrassed just thinking about it, but for now he would try to play along and not let his hesitations show.

Slowly, Fenrir removed his coat before working on the buttons of Hagan's. In the nervous silence that settled, the fire seemed to be roaring, pulsing in Hagan's ears in sync with the beating of his heart. As soon as his oversized coat was discarded on the ground, Fenrir attacked his neck, kissing and licking and making Hagan shiver as pleasure shot up his spine.

"You like that?" the Alpha whispered against his skin and Hagan could only nod mutely. Just then the man's hands slipped under his shirt to caress the skin of his back. Feeling lost and not knowing exactly what to do with his own hands, Hagan wrapped them around Fenrir's neck, pulling the man closer.

The Alpha guided him down until he was on his back on the pile of blankets. Fenrir removed Hagan's boots before settling on top of him and resuming his previous activities. Hagan turned his head to the side to allow Fenrir full access to his throat and neck, moaning in pleasure at the new sensations.

"You're so beautiful," Fenrir mumbled as he once again slipped his hands underneath the young wolf's thin shirt to caress the soft skin of his sides.

Hagan gasped and flinched suddenly when he felt Fenrir's erection pressing against his thigh. The Alpha immediately froze and pulled back, staring worriedly into the young wolf's eyes. Hagan bit his lip in embarrassment as he struggled to control the shaking in his breath.

Fenrir reached out to brush the hair from his face softly. "Forgive me," he whispered. "I got carried away. I forgot..."

Hagan smiled weakly. "It's okay... I should have told you to stop..."

Fenrir shook his head. "No, it's my fault. I should have known." He kissed Hagan slowly, almost chastely.

"I'm sorry," Hagan mumbled nervously, staring into Fenrir's face with wide eyes. "I want you but... I'm just not... ready for that yet..."

"I understand," Fenrir said, carefully rolling on his side and pulling Hagan towards him so that the young wolf could rest his head against his chest. "You don't have to be ashamed," he said and Hagan could hear his deep voice echo inside his ribcage. "We'll do it when you're ready. And it's going to be even better because we waited. I don't want to rush things... not with you."

Hagan closed his eyes, lulled to sleep by Fenrir's fingers stroking his hair. Sometime later, the Alpha spread the blankets over both their bodies and they slept peacefully until morning.

 

 

Over the next two days, the wolves were very busy preparing everything for the ceremony. Under Fenrir's orders, Callan and Elwyn left very early on the first day to catch a doe for the sacrifice ritual. The night before, Janus travelled with a few others to one of the hot springs a few miles from the camp. Once there, he had to strip and bathe, thus cleansing himself of his previous life, so that he could start a new one with his mate. In one of the caves, Maeve was being bathed similarly, in various herbs, while Janka braided her long blonde hair in an intricate way.

Usually, they would have held the ceremony in the clearing, under the light of the moon, but the cold weather prevented such a thing. On the day of the event, the largest cave was cleared of all personal effects and a very large fire was built in the centre, around which benches and tree stumps were settled. Fenrir paced in there all afternoon, mumbling the lines he would have to say for the ritual, under Hagan's amused stare.

"Stop pacing," Hagan said from the bench where he was sitting. "You know it all by heart. You'll do fine." Fenrir sighed and sat down next to him, taking Hagan's hand in his and stroking his fingers distractedly. "Stop worrying," Hagan whispered, pressing his cheek on Fenrir's shoulder. "I thought you already did a mating ceremony before."

"I did," Fenrir said with a brief nod. "Yrsa and Kolfinn's, but that was years ago. And there was Viktor and Aneka..." he said sadly, recalling the young man who had died before they reached

Lake Baikal, leaving his widowed mate on her own. He turned to Hagan and smiled weakly. "I'm always nervous. It's important to get it right. They say it is bad luck to mess up a mating ceremony. I'm not sure it's true, but I prefer not to risk it."

Hagan's eyes widened. He couldn't help but think of Quinn and Rowan's ceremony, which had to be done three times because of Lucan. With the terrible way they'd died, it was hard not to believe that this could have influenced their fate. "Yes," he said softly. "You better get it right then."

Fenrir cupped Hagan's cheek and turned his face towards his own. "What is it? What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing," Hagan said with a smile. Then he turned to look at the archway that some of the wolves had built, which stood near the back of the cave. They had used pieces of branches carefully intertwined together. In the summer it would have been covered in flowers, but it was beautiful nonetheless. "Someday this could be us," Hagan whispered, wrapping his arms around Fenrir's torso.

Fenrir smiled brightly at this. He didn't seem to notice the look of worry on Hagan's face.

That night everyone sat in two rows around the fire, eagerly awaiting the new mates. No one had seen them all day, for during the period before the ceremony, the future mates were isolated from each other as well as everyone else. When Maeve and Janus entered, they were dressed all in white. Maeve was beautiful, wearing a simple linen dress, and most of her wolf brothers had to admit that they'd never looked at her this way before. Janus looked like the luckiest man in the world. They stood under the archway and everyone watched as Loftr brought in the sacrificial doe, which would later be part of the celebration feast for the pack. Once the blood of the doe had been spilled and the attention of the moon goddess was on the pack, a cup was filled, from which the two mates took a drink. The Alpha drank as well, for he was the one performing the ceremony.

"We are gathered here tonight under the oak moon to bond two of our own for life," Fenrir started, standing before Maeve and Janus behind the archway. "Oak is a symbol of strength and eternity. When the winter is in full reign over the world, it is important to remember the oak's endurance. To survive the trials of winter, as well as the trials of life, people must find within themselves the great strength of the oak."

Standing next to him, Yrsa brought a silk ribbon that was wrapped around both Maeve's and Janus's wrists. They stood facing each other, hand in hand, tied together with the ribbon as Fenrir continued.

"Now you are bound one to the other with a tie not easy to break. Take this time of binding before your final vows are made. To learn what you need to know, to grow in wisdom and in love. Pray that your bond will be strong, that your love will last, in this life and beyond."

Maeve and Janus were smiling brightly at each other and from Janus's left, his mother, Janka, was sobbing quietly. Yrsa sat next to her, rubbing her back soothingly.

"By this ceremony," Fenrir spoke more loudly, "you renounce your previous life to start a new one with your mate. Maeve, today you are joining the Strome clan, a family of strong werewolf lineage. I call forward the elder, Janka, to accept you into her clan."

Still sobbing, Janka stood and stepped forward. With shaking hands but a large and tearful smile, she dipped her finger into the cup containing the blood of the doe and smeared some of it on Maeve's forehead before taking the young woman's face in her hands and kissing her softly on both her cheeks. She muttered something that no one else could hear and Maeve nodded with a smile before Janka returned to her seat.

"Are you ready to say your vows?" Fenrir asked and Janus nodded, indicating that he would start.

He cleared his throat loudly before talking, looking deeply into Maeve's eyes. "I come here tonight before our family, to join my life to yours in their presence. I pledge to be true to you, to respect you and to grow with you through the years. Time may pass, fortune may smile, and trials may come. No matter what we encounter together, I vow here that this love will be my only love. I will make my home in your heart from this day forward."

When her turn came, Maeve's voice shook slightly as she spoke. "Today, I join my life to yours, not merely as your mate, but as your friend, your lover and your confidant. Let me be the shoulder you lean on, the rock on which you rest, the companion of your life. With you I will walk from this day forward."

"May the moon look upon you and bless you," Fenrir announced loudly. "May you know nothing but happiness from this day forward. May the wind be always at your backs. May the sun shine warm upon your faces."

The ceremony ended in applause and cheers from the pack and everyone surrounded the new mates to give their congratulations and wish them luck. The rest of the night was spent eating and singing and telling jokes and stories. When Hagan went to bed, it was already very late in the night and he fell asleep quickly, tired from all the noise and the food.

He was awakened early in the morning, gasping as someone held him down, pressing a hand on his mouth. The fire had died during the night and he squinting in the darkness to see the face of whoever was on top of him. A scream struggled in his throat but then he recognised Bannock's wrinkled face hovering over his, a long finger pressed to his dried lips. Once the old man removed his hand, Hagan scurried back, trembling all over.

"Bannock!" he hissed angrily. "You scared the shit out of me!"

But the old man's eyes were wide and shining with fear as he spoke. "They're coming..." he mumbled weakly, staring so deeply into Hagan's eyes that the young wolf felt goosebumps all over his body. "They're coming, I feel them. They're coming for you..."

The old man tried to stand but his body was too weak from having been unconscious for days and Hagan led him back to his corner of the cave. As he helped the shaman drink some water and eat a little bit of food, he forced himself to think that what the man had said was just the result of a delirious nightmare. Yes, that was it. There was no need to worry over that. And most of all, there was no need to tell Fenrir about it.

 

 

Everyone woke up late the next morning. Hagan informed Yrsa that Bannock was back and she provided the man with a bath, fresh clothes and a good meal. If the shaman remembered what he had told Hagan the night before, he never mentioned it. He was positively delighted when they informed him that Hagan would become his apprentice and started talking about everything he would teach him. The old man was so enthusiastic that even Hagan started being excited. He was in a good mood until noon, when he saw that some of the wolves were gathered in the clearing, carrying various weapons. He left the cave without even bothering to put on his coat and ran up to them.

"What's happening?" he asked Elwyn as he reached the twins.

"We're going hunting!" the redhead said brightly.

"What? Why did no one tell me?" Hagan said, irritated as he looked around. The hunting party was even bigger than last time. Even Osgar was taken along. "I want to go with you. You're not going to leave me behind with the women and the kids, are you?"

"I'm staying behind, too, if it's any consolation," Loftr said, coming up behind him. "Someone has to watch over the rest of them."

"Great," Hagan said dryly. "I'm left with the women and the kids  _and_  the old people..."

"Such a polite young man," Loftr said playfully in a rasping voice.

"Is there a problem?" Fenrir asked as he walked up to them, all ready with his bow and arrow on his back. He had just sent the owl back to his brother, telling him he didn't know anything about Harry Potter.

"Yes, there is!" Hagan said loudly. "I'm coming with you."

"There's no need," Fenrir said distractedly. "We have plenty of men."

Hagan grabbed his arm suddenly to get his attention. "You can't expect me to stay here all day! I didn't go last time! You have to take me today!"

Apparently the tone of voice he'd used didn't do well with the Alpha because Fenrir grabbed his arm and led him farther away from the others so that they could talk privately. The wolves watched them go, whispering to each other. By now they were all aware that there was something between Fenrir and Hagan and some of them wondered exactly where this was going to go.

"I don't  _have_  to do anything," Fenrir hissed once they were far enough so that no one could hear. "We might not be back until tomorrow. You're staying here, where it's safer. And put on your coat, you'll freeze to death!"

" _What_?" Hagan hissed through gritted teeth. " _Safer_? Are you fucking kidding me? What do you think can happen to me? You think I'm gonna be mauled by a bear with twenty-five other men standing around?"

"You are staying here, Hagan! I won't have this conversation with you again!" Fenrir said angrily before turning to leave. "And put your coat on!"

"You're such a coward!" Hagan called out and the man froze before turning to him slowly. "You say you're so brave, but you don't even have the courage to settle this right now!"

"Fine!" Fenrir said dangerously. "I'll hear you out!" he said slowly, as if he were speaking to a child. "Pour out your heart to me, why don't you? I've got people getting sick because they don't have anything to keep them warm at night, but of course I have time to listen to your futile babbling!"

"You're such a jerk!" Hagan almost yelled, punching Fenrir in the chest, but the older man didn't react. "You keep saying that you'll never force me into anything and yet ever since I accepted your proposal, all you've been doing is bossing me around! You said you would never look down on me! What is it you're doing now? You tell me where to sleep, what to do, and now you tell me how to fucking dress!" He was freezing, of course, but he was so mad he would never admit it. "You know how I am! You know I don't like to be ordered around. I am my own person. I'm not going to stay here and play wife while you attend to your  _oh so important_  Alpha duties! If life with you is going to be that way, then I don't want to be your mate anymore!"

His voice broke as he finished his sentence. The look of shock and hurt on Fenrir's face lasted only for a few seconds before it was replaced with fury.

" _Fine_!" Fenrir hissed through gritted teeth, with a look of pure hate on his face. "The last thing I want is to deal with your temper tantrums every day! It's a mate that I want, not a stubborn child!"

And he walked over to the others, not even once looking back at Hagan, who was struggling to hold back his tears.

"Trouble in paradise, Alpha?" Osgar drawled at Fenrir as the group of hunters disappeared into the woods.

"You better hold your tongue if you don't want to lose it," the Alpha warned, and everyone understood that no remarks concerning what they had just witnessed would be tolerated.

 

 

Since more than half the pack was gone hunting, and Maeve and Janus had isolated themselves to enjoy their first day as mates, Hagan and Loftr were the only two left to guard and make sure the remaining wolves were provided for. They spent the rest of the day tending to the fires, and even with Loftr's efforts to lift Hagan's mood, the young wolf barely said a word. When the sun started to set, Hagan climbed into a tree on the western border of the territory to keep watch, while Loftr surveyed the south border. He stared as darkness fell all around, his heart heavy with echoes of the fight he'd had with Fenrir and all the hurtful words they said to each other. Osgar had been right after all. Things would never work between them.

Something shifted in the forest and Hagan listened intently. It was probably just an animal, he thought, because he couldn't hear anything else. If only he didn't have to keep guard, he could just go back to his cave and hide under his blankets. One positive thing about not having to become Fenrir's mate anymore was that he'd be able to go back to sleeping with his friends. He tried to feel better thinking about that but it didn't work.

Now something was definitely going on in the forest below. Hagan frowned and squinted, checking for any traces of an animal. He heard whispers and thought it was probably some of the hunters coming back. They were approaching rapidly. He could already see their silhouettes a few feet away, and from the shadows they cast, at least one of them was carrying a bow. Gracefully, Hagan climbed down and jumped on the group just as they reached him.

As soon as he touched the ground, Hagan wished he'd stayed hidden up in the tree. The three wolves who greeted him had broad shoulders, unfamiliar faces and crooked smirks.

"Well, look at that, boys," the tallest one said, licking his lips as his eyes took in Hagan's whole body in a way that almost made him blush. The wolf had a long face that could have been handsome if it wasn't for the ugly scar marking the skin from his nose to his jaw. "What a pretty little sub! And he just happens to drop at our feet..." he drawled and the others cackled in laughter.

Hagan realised he wasn't just surrounded by three unknown werewolves, but by three pure-blooded, born werewolves. And from the looks in their eyes, they were not going to ask him for directions. Knowing he would never be able to fight them, and thinking he had to warn the others, Hagan did a stupid thing. He ran.

A few seconds later, an arrow pierced through his shoulder and he fell to the ground with a scream of pain. Hearing them running towards him, he tried to crawl away but one of them had already reached him and grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling him back.

"Not before I've had my fun, little bitch," the wolf snarled. "I think I deserve a reward for travelling all this way..." But he stopped abruptly when he looked at Hagan more closely. Hagan saw the man's eyes travel to his forehead, and very slowly, a grin formed on his deformed face. "Jackpot," he said dangerously.

As the three men grabbed him, Hagan could only scream, hoping he would manage to alert someone from the pack. Then he noticed something even more horrifying. The werewolves were taking out thin sticks from their coats and pointing them at him. With dread, he realised they were wizards. He screamed some more, and then the pain started.


	8. The Rogues

_"Outside, deep into the woods, I heard a long keening wail, and then another, as the wolves began to howl.  More voices pitched in, some low and mournful, others high and short, an eerie and beautiful chorus.  I knew my wolf's howl, his rich tone sang out above others as if begging me to hear it."_

-Maggie Stiefvater

 

 

HE COULD HAVE been running for hours for all he knew. He bolted through the forest, panting heavily. His throat was dry and lungs on fire despite the chilly night air. He could barely feel his legs anymore, and how he managed to keep going was a mystery. His whole body was numb and aching, and yet he ran like never before, like death itself was chasing him. He almost scoffed as the thought went through his head. He had an unsettling feeling it was quite the opposite, that  _he_  was the one chasing after death. And death wasn't easy to catch tonight, especially through knee-deep snow. Every few strides, his legs buckled and sent him stumbling forward, grasping on twigs and tree branches to pull himself back on his feet.

Haphazardly, he remembered the stories he heard as a young pup, about the ancient wolves, the ancestors. Legend has it they could turn into their wolf forms whenever they wanted or needed to. He had always thought such an idea was ridiculous. How could it be possible to change without the almighty, merciless pull of the moon? Those were only legends, of course, so he never really thought much about it. But now, as he was confronted with the weakness of his human body, he found himself longing for such a power. In wolf form, this whole ordeal would already be over.

Janus had been following the strong scents of the werewolves for some time now, along with their traces in the snow and the trail of blood left in their wake. He could tell that the three strangers were born wolves, and that the blood was Hagan's. This latter fact alone fuelled his speed and determination to catch up with them. If he needed to, he would run until morning, he thought fiercely. They were faster than he dared admit, which meant that they were strong and worthy opponents, but they also had someone to carry, and Janus carried only himself. This allowed him to keep hoping that maybe...

Just as these thoughts formed in his foggy and exhausted mind, Janus heard someone scream and he knew he'd reached them. As soon as he caught a glimpse of their silhouettes between the trees, he stopped abruptly and threw himself to the ground. The thick carpet of snow muffled the impact.

They had stopped in a small clearing, but Janus couldn't quite hear what they were saying. He tried to keep a safe distance from them. Only Hagan's yelps reached his ears, along with crude laughter from the strangers. Janus stole a few glances in their direction, past the large tree behind which he was hiding. He was careful not to be seen or heard. As long as they were oblivious to his presence, he still had a chance to help Hagan. The three wolves, all tall and muscled, stood in a circle, surrounding a trembling figure on the ground. Janus could hardly make out anything else than their shadowy forms. The moon was hiding behind a thick cloud, depriving them of the only source of available light. Janus turned towards the dark forest leaning back on the large tree trunk as he tried to catch his breath.

The night was crisp and clear. The forest was quiet and the wind almost nonexistent, which was probably why they heard the screams so clearly from the camp. Had it been a stormy night like the previous ones, Hagan's cries for help would have been stifled and ignored. They would have discovered his disappearance only in the morning when he didn't return to the clearing after his guard shift was over. Or worse, Janus thought, when the hunting party returned to camp with plenty of prey and Fenrir went to seek out Hagan to apologise for their fight the morning before. By that time, all traces of him would have vanished, along with most chances of ever finding him again.

As he struggled to catch his breath, Janus realised just how furious he was. He wasn't upset at Hagan for getting in this situation, because quite honestly, he didn't really understand what exactly was happening. He was utterly confused. Who were those wolves? Where did they come from? And most of all, who were they to think they had any right to take Hagan away? No, he wasn't mad at Hagan, because as strong as the black-haired wolf was, there was no way he could overpower three grown born werewolves, especially if he was wounded. None of this was Hagan's fault. It was Fenrir Janus was angry with. He was furious at the Alpha for taking the strongest wolves away on a bloody hunting trip when they were needed here more than ever. He could sure use Osgar's bold strength right now, or Callan and Elwyn's daring courage. None of this would be happening if Fenrir had stayed at camp and let someone else take lead of the expedition. But as the only born wolf left behind, Janus was conscious of the fact that everything rested on his shoulders. Hagan's life was in his hands. All in all, this really wasn't how he'd planned to spend his honeymoon.

Maeve reached him then, and she plopped down silently beside him behind a nearby tree. He'd insisted she stay behind and wait for him at the camp, mainly because he had no idea back then what they were dealing with, but his mate proved to be just as hard-headed as any other werewolf. She fought fiercely, insisting to come, and Janus had accepted, knowing that she would probably come anyway. Besides, they didn't have much time to argue over it. He knew trying to protect her was vain, especially when her friend was in danger. And truthfully, as much as he wanted her safe, he would need all the help he could get.

She shot him a hesitant look full of anxiety and fear, as she took out her bow and arrow. Upon hearing Hagan's screams, Janus' first instinct had been to run, but Maeve had taken the time to grab a weapon before following him. He was glad she did, because Maeve was a skilled archer. He put a finger to his lips, indicating they needed to be silent, and she nodded gravely. Janus glanced around, analysing the situation and observing their surroundings. The lack of light in the woods around the clearing would give them cover as long as he moon stayed hidden. They had a few minutes to plan their actions. Maeve could probably take down at least one of the wolves, maybe two if they were lucky. But he would have to deal with the other one himself.

At that exact moment, Hagan let out a long wail of pain. His throat sounded raw from screaming so much. The sound was followed by a cacophony of laughter from the three werewolves. Janus saw the horror in Maeve's eyes and it pained him deeply. He knew she had been through rough times before, when Lucan Donegan was still alive. She'd told him about it a few times, but never went into details. He had hoped she would be happy now that they were together, that she would have a reason to smile, laugh and be carefree. The very thought of her being miserable enraged him.

"Where the hell is Loftr?" Janus asked, his voice trembling slightly. "Is he coming or not?"

"He was still searching through the cave when I left, looking for something," Maeve explained, her voice so low he could barely hear her. Her eyes were wide with fear as Hagan's cries echoed in the forest. "What are those?" she asked suddenly, narrowing her eyes as she stared towards the wolves in the clearing.

"What?" Janus asked, following her gaze.

It was hard to see anything in the faint light. Janus bent so low that his chin grazed the carpet of snow.

"Look," she muttered with a fearful trembling in her voice. "They're holding some sort of sticks..."

She was right. In their hands, the three werewolves were grasping thin sticks, pointing them at the figure on the ground. At first, Janus thought they were branches or something like that, but then he noticed the small flashes of light emanating from them and flying swiftly towards Hagan. Obviously, those weren't ordinary branches. It didn't take Janus very long to realise that every time one of those beams of light touched him, Hagan screamed in pain.

"They're torturing him," Maeve chocked out, as if reading his thoughts.

Hagan screamed again, louder than before, but then he fell silent so abruptly that Janus' heart jolted inside his chest. This wasn't right. The three wolves were laughing again, sneering and mocking Hagan's pain. Feeling sick, Janus turned his head away from the scene just in time to see Maeve stand up and leap out from behind the tree, heading towards the group of wolves with her bow raised and ready. There was look of profound fury on her face. Janus jumped up and caught her around the waist just in time, before the strangers could notice her presence. In the sudden shock of being pulled back, she released her grip on the arrow and it shot off into the forest. The crude laughter of the wolves drowned out the sound of the arrow flying into a tree. The only sign of the impact was a thick cloud of snow falling from the branches overhead. Janus dragged Maeve back into the shade.

"Let me go!" she hissed furiously. Even though he couldn't see her face from the way he was holding her, Janus knew from her voice that she was fighting tears.

"We're outnumbered. We have to think this through..."

"They'll kill him if we don't do something soon!"

Right then, as they struggled against each other, Loftr reached them. He was getting slow with age, Janus thought as he watched the older man crouch beside them. He was out of breath and shifted the weight of his body onto his good leg. Since he had been wounded back in Finland, he wasn't as agile and powerful. Before the incident, he would have been first on the scene.

"What the fuck took you so long?" Janus whispered furiously.

Loftr shot him a warning glare before saying, wheezing and out of breath, "Stopped to get these two... Thought they might come in useful..."

He turned out the pockets of his thick, dark coat, and showed them what he had been carrying. In his hands were two handguns that Janus recognised at once because one of them had killed his father months before. They belonged to some of the hunters from Lake Inari. He didn't think anyone else knew that Loftr had taken them, and had he found out any other way, he would have frowned upon such a discovery, but right now he was glad Loftr had them. Even Fenrir, who was well-known for being against the use of weapons of any kind, would have felt intense relief at the sight of the two revolvers.

Loftr grinned at the look on Janus' face. "Don't fret. You can apologise later once we've dragged the kid out of this mess. Take this one," he said, handing Janus one of the old-fashioned revolvers. The silver of the barrel glinted in the feeble moonlight. "It's loaded already," Loftr added quietly. "Go easy on it. The bullets come in rare. I trust you know how to use it."

Janus only nodded and the three of them turned back towards the clearing. They watched in silence for a little while, trying to elaborate a plan of action. Janus felt his nerves relax when he realised that he wouldn't have to do this alone after all.

"How do we do this?" asked Maeve who had calmed down. When Janus had let go of her, she didn't try to run. Apparently, Loftr's arrival and the sight of the guns had given her hope too.

Loftr narrowed his eyes as he stared at the wolves in the darkness. When he noticed the sticks they were carrying, a sudden coldness spread inside his chest.

"What do you think they are?" Janus asked when he saw the old man's reaction.

"There's no time to explain," Loftr said with a sort of helpless cringe, "but that complicates things a bit."

"We have to find a way to get those sticks to use against them," Janus whispered.

Loftr shook his head, his greyish hair falling into his face. "They won't work for any of us," he groaned. "But there's no time to explain," he repeated when he saw Janus' confusion.

They turned away from the scene in the clearing, where the three wolves were laughing louder still. Hagan's silence urged them to act soon. They huddled together, speaking in hushed whispers.

"We don't have much time," Janus said, trying to keep his voice calm. "We've got to act soon. First, we'll surround them," he began and the other two nodded seriously. "Loftr, you move to the right and I'll take the left. Maeve, you stay here. You'll have to attack first. Your weapon is silent, they won't know what's coming. Take out the closest to you. Loftr and I will take the remaining two right after..."

"The moon is almost out," Maeve remarked. They looked up at the sky. The moon was rapidly moving away from the heavy cloud behind which it had been hiding. Soon it would light the whole woods and expose their presence.

"We've got to act as soon as it's out," Janus announced.

"We should try to get them alive," said Loftr quickly, shifting again as he tried to move his leg into a comfortable position. "Fenrir will want to deal with them himself..."

"How are we supposed to carry them all back to camp?" inquired Maeve, looking around anxiously.

They were silent for a few seconds, once again conscious of the fact that they were in over their heads.

"We only need to bring back one," Janus concluded. "It's the best we can do. The others we'll have to finish off. We can't let them get away with this."

"Surprise is our best asset," Loftr said very seriously. "They are more powerful than us, never doubt that. Make sure you disarm them first, or incapacitate them. Stay out of the way of the wands. They'll kill you faster than you can blink. We're no help if we're dead..."

"Wands?" Janus repeated, confused.

Loftr ignored him. "The tall one with the ponytail," he muttered with a quick jerk of his head. "Looks like he's the boss, I say we keep him."

Janus nodded. His heart was beating madly. The frenzy of what they were about to do was starting to fill him with excitement rather than nervousness. And yet, he couldn't help but wonder what was so lethal about those strangers. Loftr seemed to know more than he let on. If they got out of this alive and well, there would be lots of explaining to do. Even with the full moon still weeks away, Janus could feel the wolf stirring inside his chest.

"Fine, we'll bring that one back," he said with a nod. "Take your positions."

"Right," the older man said, heading to the right like they discussed.

Janus leaned down and kissed Maeve softly. "Remember... as soon as the moon is out," he said softly. "Stay safe," he added before slipping away between the trees to the left.

 

 

When they threw him to the ground, the arrow in Hagan's shoulder twisted and he let out a piercing scream as pain shot through his body. He felt the burning spread down his whole arm to the tip of his fingers and upwards into his neck and jaw. This reaction earned him a fit of laughter from the three wolves. The man with the scar across his face threw his head back as he laughed. Hagan felt his pain mix with anger and he tried to stand so he could fight them properly, but a foot pressing hard on his chest kept him firmly pinned to the ground.

"Hyde!" one of them called to the scarred man, his voice breaking through the laughter. Hagan turned his gaze away towards the man carrying the bow that shot him. He was brandishing his wand. "Haven't shown you that hex I learned yet!"

"Bloody hell, you're right!" said Hyde as he turned to his companion with mock indignation. "You better show it to me now, Dalton. I'm starting to get bored already."

The archer directed his wand over Hagan's body, then he spoke a strange, foreign-sounding word and a flash of light came bursting towards Hagan, hitting him fully in the chest. Hagan screamed as every inch of his body erupted with burning pain. It lasted only a few seconds, but when it stopped, he felt his muscles trembling violently from the aftershocks and he struggled to catch his breath.

"That's a  _brilliant_  one," the man named Hyde said in admiration, arms crossed as he watched Hagan's shaking form.

"It's one of those fancy spells that lends you in prison... if you've a registered wand, of course. I learned it from one of them Eaters."

"Doesn't break any bones, though," said the third man in a sort of disappointment.

"Well it's a tricky one," said the archer with a frown. "You gotta really mean it for it to work. I can't even keep it for longer than that yet."

"Guess it just needs some practicing," said Hyde with a shrug. "Mind if I try it?"

"Nah, go ahead."

"What's the word again?"

" _Crucio_."

Hagan could only watch them in fearful fascination as they discussed torture spells like they were card tricks. But he didn't have much time to be horrified about it because he was soon hit with hex after hex, barely given any time to recover in between each new attack.

A few minutes passed, although it might have been an hour. Hagan had completely lost any notion of time. In fact, Hagan had completely lost any notion of everything but pain. After only a short while, his own screams sounded foreign to his ears, like they were coming from someone else. The very sounds he was making chilled him to the very core. They were like those of an animal being tortured. In the depths of his delirious mind, he realised that's exactly what he was.

Vision blurred by his own tears, soon Hagan could feel the thick, warm blood dripping from his nose to his chin. He saw the archer raise his wand once again, but this time the man threw him a different spell, one that silenced any noise Hagan attempted to make. But still, he kept screaming, because he didn't know what else to do. Even in this state he knew screaming was no use, but he just couldn't stop. This made his tormentors laugh even more.

When Hagan was first revealed the existence of magic by the two wizards who came to take him away to Hogwarts, they told him briefly about wands and how a wizard could use them to channel the magic running through his veins. Sensing his disbelief, the old man stared at him softly, his gentle eyes twinkling through a pair of thin glasses shining in the sunlight, and he used his own wand to demonstrate what magic could accomplish. The man – Dumbledore had been his name – fixed the tip of Hagan's worn trainers with a simple, almost nonchalant wave of his wand.

This demonstration was impressing, especially in the eyes of an eleven year old boy, and he could only wonder what other useful things magic could do. Surely it could be used to light a fire – and he later discovered that it did – but maybe it could even keep you warm without even having to light anything at all. Even after turning down the offer to go to Hogwarts, and swearing to Lucan he would no longer give any thought to all things magical, every time Hagan had something particularly tiresome to do, he couldn't help but wonder what kind of spells he would be able to perform if he'd followed those strange men.

Back then he was briefly told about the Dark wizard who had murdered his parents, and he knew there were spells more powerful than the one used to fix his shoes, but he hadn't really given them much thought, except for a few times when he'd been around Lucan. But now, as the beams of red light hit him, in some deep corner of his mind, Hagan realised what the old man had been talking about, and also why Osgar had warned him of the rumours he heard during his exile. There was a war, that much was clear... There was a war between the kind of wizards who fixed shoes and the kind of wizards who laughed while they tortured. And Hagan was right in the middle of this war.

And he realised another thing. He was going to die. He was going to die without having a chance to see Fenrir again and fix things between them. But the worst thing was... he was going to die, and no one would know.

The scarred man with the long hair, or Hyde, as his friends called him, seemed to be beaming with joy. Even through the haze of his cloudy mind, Hagan could see his face clearly, just as if nothing else in the world existed. The man's grin hovered constantly around him, taunting and mocking him. And Hagan couldn't help thinking that the stranger looked familiar, and he wondered if they'd met before. And then, in the midst of a particularly nasty hex, the realisation hit Hagan full force, the horror dawned on him as he realised who that man was. It was Lucan. He wasn't dead. He had returned to take Hagan away and kill him. Hagan let out a scream of despair, but it remained muted by the silencing spell. By then he could clearly see Lucan's features on Hyde's scarred face. The scars were obviously caused by his fight with Fenrir. How his former Alpha could have survived this fight, Hagan couldn't conceive, but it didn't matter. What mattered was that he would die, but only after Lucan and his companions took what they wanted.

And sure enough, Lucan was quickly and enthusiastically undoing his belt. Hagan hadn't even realised that they had ripped off most of his clothing by then. His body was so numb with the pain that he could hardly feel the cold winter air on his skin. Lucan chuckled as he prepared to pull down his pants, but the archer stopped him.

"I want to go first," the man said defiantly. "You always get first round, now's my turn," he explained gruffly.

Lucan raised a deformed eyebrow, but only nodded in amusement. "Go ahead, Dalton, be my guest," he said finally with a chuckle as he stepped away from Hagan.

His limbs shaking uncontrollably, Hagan threw his head back and looked up at the sky. The last thing he wanted was to look into the face of his rapist. He felt something warm run down his face, but he wasn't sure if it was blood or tears or a mix of the two. The moon was just about to come out, he noticed as he looked up. At least he would see it one last time before he died, he thought weakly.

He felt one of the archer's hands on his thighs and the other one grabbed a fistful of his hair. "You look at me when I fuck you," the man groaned hungrily, dragging his thick, smelly tongue across Hagan's cheek and down his jaw.

Dalton pulled back slightly to undo his pants, fumbling quickly with the buttons in the cold night air. Hagan watched his blurry silhouette move against the night sky as he got ready. Behind the man, the moon was slipping free of the clouds, spreading soft light on the trees around them. The shadows they spread in the clearing elongated like skinny fingers across the snow and Hagan could almost feel them reaching out for him, as if trying to pull him into the darkness. A sudden fear gripped Hagan's heart. He was going to die.

But right then, Dalton the archer let out a strange noise, like a gurgle of some sort. He stopped fumbling and froze, with his pants halfway down his legs, kneeling in the snow between Hagan's parted thighs. Something was dripping down his neck onto the front of his coat and Hagan's skin: something dark and warm. Quite suddenly, the smell of blood was overwhelming.

It took the other wolves a few seconds to realise what had happened. From behind the group, from somewhere into the surrounding woods, an arrow had been shot. Swiftly and silently, it flew through the air and lodged itself into the back of Dalton's neck, piercing his throat. The archer clutched at his throat and panic glinted in his eyes when he touched the tip of the arrow coming out through his Adam's apple. He tried to stand, but a few seconds later, he was dropping sideways into the snow like a rag doll, lifeless.

Lucan and his other companion were so shocked that they didn't have time to react. They had both tucked away their wands, awaiting their turn when Dalton was finished with their captive. They couldn't reach for them fast enough. There was a thundering bang and the unnamed werewolf fell to the ground, blood trickling down his face from the bullet hole on his temple. Lucan yelled as a bullet struck his left knee, then his right, and he fell forward. He had barely touched the ground when someone tackled him from behind, grabbing the wand from his back pocket and throwing it far into the darkness of the woods.

Hagan felt a hand touch his face but he didn't even have the strength to flinch. The touch was soft, however, and the hand wiped away some of the blood, pushing a few strands of hair from his face.

"Hagan, can you hear me?" a familiar voice asked and he was relieved to see Janus' face appear above his own.

"L... Lucan!" Hagan gasped fearfully, trying to warn his friend.

Janus frowned. He knew that Hagan would be in bad shape when they reached him, but he couldn't help being shocked by his state.

"How is he?" Maeve asked as she knelt next to him, tears already streaming down her face.

Janus turned briefly to make sure that Loftr was taking care of their captive. The older man was standing over the stranger's body, pointing the gun at his face in a threatening way. "He's completely delirious," Janus said softly, turning back to Maeve. "He thinks Lucan is here..."

"Give me your coat," Maeve said suddenly when she noticed the state of Hagan's clothes. "He'll freeze to death."

Janus rapidly removed his large coat and they gently wrapped it around Hagan's shivering form. He cried out weakly when they touched him and Maeve let out a choked sob. She reached for his hand, which she held gently in her own.

"Do you think we can move him? Is it risky?" she asked her mate, her voice filled with fear. "We might make things worse..."

"We can't leave him here. We've got to get him back to Bannock..." he hesitated, shaking his head.

"We could bring Bannock here..."

"No, we might not have much time. Bannock is slow, he might be too late. We need to bring Hagan to him..." Janus announced, full of determination and adrenaline.

"F... F... Fen..." Hagan chocked out again with a sob.

Maeve caressed his face gently. "It's okay, Hagan... We've got you. You're safe now."

"I can carry him," Janus said, standing up. "You help Loftr get that bastard back to camp. I'll run ahead of you..."

"What do we do with the others?" Maeve asked, standing up, gesturing towards the two dead werewolves.

"The animals will take care of them," Janus answered coldly. "Just help me pick him up, and I'll be off."

Hagan seemed to be struggling to stay awake. His eyes were half-closed and unfocused. Janus would have to be careful not to hurt him further as he ran, but he hoped the journey would at least keep him awake. If Hagan fell asleep, Janus wasn't sure he would ever wake up. After a minute or two, they finally hauled Hagan over his shoulder.

"It's not going to work," Janus said, panting. "We've got to do something about that arrow..." The tip of the arrow stuck in Hagan's shoulder was poking painfully into his back whenever he moved.

"We can't remove it here!" Maeve said indignantly. "He'll lose too much blood!"

"I know, but we have to cut the tips off. Loftr! Give me your pocketknife!"

They gently lowered Hagan back onto the ground, and with the small pocketknife Loftr usually carried around hidden inside one of his boots, Janus carefully cut off the tips of the arrow piercing Hagan's shoulder. Hagan was mostly silent now. Either he was comforted by his friends' presence, or maybe he was just growing weaker, there was no way to know for sure. He moaned in pain when the arrow was cut, but didn't say anything more. Janus winced as he quickly examined the wound. He was no healer, but it didn't look good. The arrow had lodged itself into Hagan's shoulder blade. It looked like his collarbone had also broken under the impact.

"There," Janus said softly when he was done. "That should be more comfortable for the both of us."

He received no answer from Hagan. The black-haired wolf was looking up at the sky distractedly. This seemed to give a new surge to Maeve's panic and she urged Janus to pick up Hagan again and start making his way towards camp as quickly as possible.

Once they'd charged Hagan onto Janus' shoulder once more, he turned towards Loftr, who was still watching over the scarred werewolf. The barrel of his revolver was pointed directly at the man's head. The stranger was moaning and writhing on the ground, a pool of crimson blood was rapidly spreading on the immaculate snow around his busted kneecaps.

"Make sure you bring him back," Janus told the man urgently.

"Yeah, he's not going anywhere without me," Loftr said with a grim smile.

The scarred man gave a low groan at that moment and Loftr stomped his foot down on his kneecap. The moan turned into a wild yell of pain and Loftr laughed shortly.

"Better get used to this, you piece of shit. That wolf you took, he's our Alpha's mate... You've got much more of this coming, trust me..."

It wasn't exactly true, because neither Loftr nor Janus was sure if Hagan and Fenrir would ever really become mates, but it was worth the lie just to see the look on the man's face.

"Hurry up," Loftr told Janus, jerking his head in the direction of the camp.

Janus took off running, following his own tracks in the snow. The night air whipped through his thin shirt, but it didn't matter. The adrenaline coursing through his veins prevented him from even feeling cold. Hagan was feverish. Janus could feel the heat emanating from his body even through the thick coat he was wrapped into. He was still silent, apart from a soft moan now and then.

"You better not die on me, Hagan," Janus puffed through gritted teeth as he ran. "Don't fall asleep... Just stay with me, okay?"

Still he received no answer. And Janus tried to run faster, but he didn't think it was possible at this point.

 

 

The sun was rising slowly in the forest as the hunters made their way back towards camp. They looked like a colony of Viking warriors with their shaggy hair, the furs wrapped around their shoulders and the animal carcasses they carried. The wolves were tired, but in a good mood, and they couldn't wait to return to the caves, curl up near the warmth of the fire and sleep peacefully, knowing that when they woke there would be a large feast in their honour. None of them said anything though, because the Alpha didn't seem to be sharing this feeling of glee.

Fenrir looked positively miserable, and they all knew why. He had been this way for the whole trip, ever since his argument with Hagan. Most of the pack knew Hagan well enough to know this was inevitable. He never enjoyed being ordered around. As soon as they saw the first signs that something was up between the Alpha and their brother, they suspected it would come to this. However noble Fenrir Greyback was, as an Alpha he would undoubtedly seek order and control. It was predictable that Hagan would lose his nerve and lash out. They didn't say anything about it though. Fenrir Greyback didn't look like the type of person to whom you say I told you so. The only one not hiding this knowledge was Osgar, of course. He whistled happily as he walked and there was a small bounce in his step. Callan and Elwyn, who were walking by his side, eyed him darkly but kept silent.

Fenrir was frowning, deep in thought. His independence and fiery temper was part of what attracted him in Hagan. It wouldn't be right to criticise him for it now. Fenrir had never been interested in any of those weak, bashful submissive wolves who let dominants treat them like dirt and spend the majority of their mated lives taking care of pups without ever complaining. But Hagan was not like them. He walked with his head held high and he wasn't afraid to fight for what he wanted. When he was younger, Fenrir's mother told him the reason why he wasn't getting along with his father was because they were both too stubborn, and headstrong people can never live peacefully with each other. He supposed this was true also when it came to Hagan. They were both very intractable and Fenrir realised that if they ever were to become mates, fighting would, without a doubt, be a part of their everyday life.

Less than a week ago, he had promised Hagan he would never force him, never hurt him, never look down on him. And he had already broken that promise. As he watched the light of day spread in the woods, Fenrir made a decision. As soon as he got back to camp, he would talk to Hagan and apologise. Alpha pride be damned, he would beg if he needed to. He would fix things between them, give Hagan the time and space he needed, and they would spend the rest of their lives together, arguing and yelling at each other and being happy.

He had been so lost in thought, his head full of Hagan, that he hadn't noticed a small silhouette growing bigger and bigger as it ran towards them. He only became aware of it when Callan finally broke his train of thoughts.

"Fenrir, look!"

They stopped and watched as the silhouette grew closer, advancing rapidly. Finally they recognised the runner as Kosta, Janus' younger brother. The eleven year old boy was running as fast as he could through the snow and Fenrir instantly knew that there was an emergency within the pack. Janus would never send his brother alone in the woods and Kosta knew better than to disobey anyone.

"Alpha!" he cried as he neared them. By the time he reached the group, he was completely out of breath.

"Kosta, what's happened?" he asked urgently, sensing from the boy's disposition that something was very wrong.

"It's Hagan..." the boy choked out, pointing behind him in the direction of the camp. "Some men came and they took him... they hurt him... Janus... Janus got him back but... but it's bad, Alpha... He sent me to find you..."

The boy might have had more to say, but Fenrir didn't wait for it. He dropped the carcass of the deer he had been carrying and took off running, leaving the rest of the pack to interrogate Kosta further. He was being punished, he thought as he ran. He was being punished for not listening to Hagan, for not keeping his promise, for being an insensitive, possessive bastard. The walk back to camp, which should have been more than thirty minute, took him around fifteen.

When he reached the clearing, he found it deserted. The fire had died out, and there wasn't one sound. He felt like he's stumbled into an abandoned settlement, but only a second later, Yrsa came out of Bannock's cave and called out to him.

"Fen! In here! Quick!" she yelled before disappearing back inside the cave.

Fenrir bolted for the shaman's cave, his heart beating madly inside his ribcage. He barged in a few seconds later and stopped abruptly near the entrance, shocked by the sight that met him.

Yrsa was boiling water in a large pot on the fire in the centre of the cave, clean towels piled up near her. Janka and Maeve were kneeling on the stone ground next to Hagan. He was lying on many furs with his upper body propped up by pillows. He shivered uncontrollably despite the terrible heat in the cave and his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. He was shirtless and a few stray drops of blood dribbled down his chest from an arrow sticking out of his shoulder.

"Hagan," Maeve said softly, pushing his sweaty hair away from his face. "Hagan, Fenrir is here now..." She turned to the Alpha then, and said, "He's been asking for you..."

Fenrir couldn't remember ever feeling more scared than he was right now. He wanted to go to Hagan, but his feet refused to move. "How is he?" he asked, his voice terribly weak even to his own ears.

Janka stood and put a warm hand on his arm. "He's feverish. Luckily he hasn't lost too much blood. His leg his broken and I think a few ribs also. We should remove the arrow soon, but it's risky without Bannock..." She trailed off with a great sigh.

That's when Fenrir noticed Bannock's absence. If someone should be there helping Hagan, it was him. He turned sharply towards the corner of the cave and, sure enough, the shaman was sitting there, humming to himself, completely out of this world, like he had been every single time they needed him.

Fenrir walked over to him and grabbed the old man by the grimy tunic he was wearing. Maybe because he desperately needed to blame someone else for what was happening, he started shaking the shaman roughly.

"Wake up!" he yelled but Bannock's head simply lolled to the side and he only seemed to be humming louder. "Do your job and help him!" Fenrir said through gritted teeth.

"Fenrir... stop it..." Yrsa walked over to him and pulled him away from the shaman. "We've already tried waking him up. Nothing works," she said very softly, as if afraid he might lash out at her. "Come." She lead him back towards Hagan. "He's going to need you."

There was a terrible pounding in his head as he approached Hagan's body, trembling on the cold ground. He was paler than Fenrir could even conceive. Maeve smiled tearfully when he kneeled down next to her. She took Hagan's hand, which she had been holding tightly and wrapped it softly in Fenrir's large, calloused one. Hagan's eyes were closed and he was breathing with difficulty, but when Fenrir entwined their fingers together, he slowly turned his head to look at the Alpha.

His eyes seemed incredibly clear and once again Fenrir was astounded by their unique shade of green, which never failed to remind him of warm summer days in the forest. Even through the pain he was in, Hagan smiled gently when he noticed Fenrir's presence.

"There you are..." he whispered. "Where'd you run off to now?" he added boldly, staring directly at Fenrir with something similar to reproach.

Maeve laughed weakly. "He's a bit out of it," she told Fenrir with a small smile. "We gave him something out of Bannock's potions... We didn't know what to use. Callan's really the only one who knows what they're for... Callan and Hagan..." She gave a short, bitter laugh at the irony of the situation. "We used the one we take for the transformations, gave him a bigger dose just to be sure. It made him a bit delirious, but he doesn't seem to be in as much pain now..." she trailed off with a few sniffles.

"What happened?" Fenrir asked, his eyes never leaving Hagan, who was now smiling blissfully.

"He was doing his guard duty, on the west border. Janus and I just happened to go out into the clearing and we heard him scream," Maeve explained. "Loftr was guarding the south border. He was closer so he heard everything but he came back to grab weapons. Janus took off running to catch up with Hagan. Loftr and I followed. There were three wolves... Rogues, I think... They shot Hagan and they grabbed him. They were going to take him away..."

"Fenrir," a voice said and they both turned to the entrance. Janus was standing there, looking directly at the Alpha. "We brought one of them back," he said.

"Alive?" Fenrir asked, his throat tight with anger and fear.

"Yes. He's in the food cave. Loftr's watching him," Janus announced.

Hagan gave a short laugh, like someone had told a joke, and then he sighed and closed his eyes again, squeezing Fenrir's hand.

"They were wizards, Fenrir," Janus said suddenly. "Loftr told us everything," he explained at Fenrir's shocked expression. "It wouldn't be so bad if it was just the arrow, but they used spells on him..."

"Did they... did they... do anything to him?" Fenrir interrupted. He wasn't even strong enough to say the words. He turned to Janus, who shook his head.

"They planned to, but they didn't have time," he said shortly before looking away uncomfortably.

Fenrir nodded and cleared his throat briefly before speaking. "Do you mind?" he asked Janus and the three women. "Could you leave us for a minute?"

They all left the cave silently, smiling sadly, knowing that if Bannock didn't return to them soon, Hagan might not have much time. If things didn't turn out well, this might be Fenrir's only chance to say goodbye.

"Make sure he doesn't fall asleep," Yrsa said softly before she left. She had never seen her brother look so powerless before.

Hagan opened his eyes again to look at Fenrir and he smiled again. Fenrir smiled back painfully, and surprisingly he felt a few tears roll down his cheeks.

"Are you in pain?" the Alpha asked softly, running a shaking hand through the young man's hair.

"It's not so bad," the black-haired wolf whispered, bringing Fenrir's hand near his face and resting his cheek against it. "I feel better now that you're here," he said sheepishly.

"Hagan..." Fenrir started, his voice weak with emotion and guilt. "I'm so sorry for what I said yesterday. I didn't mean it..."

"It is morning already?" Hagan asked groggily before moaning. "I'm cold."

Fenrir knew there was no use trying to talk to him like this. He couldn't help but be worried though. Hagan said he was cold, and yet he was burning up. Gently Fenrir pulled up the blankets covering his lower body and brought them up to Hagan's chin. Hagan sighed peacefully and closed his eyes again.

"Don't fall asleep," Fenrir pleaded him. "I'll make this right, I promise. Just stay with me."

Hagan didn't answer. He just groaned in annoyance and turned his head away.

"Fenrir," Janus said from the entrance of the cave. "They're back."

Fenrir looked down at Hagan, his throat burning with fear and guilt. He bent down to kiss his forehead softly before standing up. As he left the cave, the women stepped back inside, rubbing their bare arms to try to warm up.

Out in the clearing, the rest of the pack was discharging their prey, lining up the carcasses on the snow near the extinguished fire. Callan ran up to Fenrir, his face lined with worry.

"You stay with him," Fenrir said before Callan could say anything. "If anything changes, anything at all, you come and get me."

Callan nodded and a second later he had disappeared inside the shaman's cave. Fenrir turned to Janus, ready to follow him to see their captor.

"Alpha!" cried Elwyn as he ran up after them. "It's Osgar..."

"What now?" Fenrir snapped impatiently.

"He left," Elwyn explained. "Kosta was explaining what happened and he just left without saying anything... I think he's deserted the pack..."

"Fine," Fenrir announced coldly. "One less thing to worry about..."

And without another word, he followed Janus into the food cave.


	9. The Guardian

_"The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep."_

-Robert Frost

 

 

DALTON AND GREG were dead. It was only hours later, in the darkness of the cave, that Hyde realised it. His bloody knees made him suffer more than he'd ever suffered before in his life. The pain was such that he'd passed out many times and quickly threw up the modest meal he'd eaten the day before. When the cold took over on the pain and his wounds became strangely numb, it was then that it dawned on him just how much trouble he was in. Confronted by his own stupidity and the sombre fate awaiting him, he let out a bitter laugh that echoed in the depths of the cave.

He had been so close. Even now, when it was clear that he had failed, he could hardly believe it. He had found the boy... the boy the Dark Lord was searching for, the one the Death Eaters were after, the boy werewolves from all over Europe were hoping to get their hands on to fall into the dark wizard's good graces.

The kid had disappeared from the surface of the earth, or so it had seemed. Many thought he was already dead, or that he hadn't survived the attack on him as an infant. Others even doubted that he ever existed. Since he'd started associating with wizards again, Hyde had heard all sorts of stories about the boy named Harry Potter. Some were saying that he was only an invention from the Light Side to give hope to their people. Others were whispering that he was just an ordinary child used as an excuse to explain the Dark Lord's loss of powers. The general uncertainty was such that with time, the boy became a legend.

And then, a few years ago, a rumour started growing, its true origins unknown. People were saying that the boy had disappeared because he was bitten and had joined a werewolf pack. No one really paid this any particular attention, because they had all heard so many ridiculous theories before. And yet, the Dark Lord seemed to take this seriously. He put a price on the boy's head and the hunt began, albeit a somewhat lax one. The wolves kept an eye out for anything unusual, but no one really had any hope of finding the boy. And yet, Hyde did find him, in the middle of this white hell that was Siberia. He had recognised the scar, of course. There couldn't be two kids on this planet with such a mark. He had truly found him. But the boy had slipped through his fingers before Hyde could bring him back to England, before he could get his reward.

He should have been more careful. He could see his mistakes now. It had been so long since he'd last had such a delicious wolf over a barrel. He let himself get distracted by the thought of the young body arching into his thrusts, the moans coming from his lips, and the tears streaming from those sublime eyes... those unnatural green eyes... the colour of the curse that kills. Hyde knew that colour. He should have been wary of it. Now he knew it only prophesised his coming fate.

The bastard who shot him had mentioned that the kid belonged to his Alpha. This did nothing to reassure Hyde. It had been years since he'd belonged to any pack. He was solitary now, travelling with occasional companions, but Hyde knew how packs worked. Not in any way did he envy those groups of wolves that acted like families, sharing chores, protecting the young pups, running together under the full moon, always ready to defend their kin. Packs were dangerous for wolves like him, wolves who raised trouble without thinking of the consequences. He should have known that the kid wasn't alone in this fucking country. He should have suspected that a cute little wolf like him wouldn't be left on his own for long, but his hunger and his instincts took over his reason. He should have never stopped in that clearing. He should have dragged the boy away and never stopped until he reached England. Who knows, maybe the dark wizard would have allowed him a little bit of fun as a reward? But it was no use brooding over what was impossible to change. Hyde had missed his chance, his companions were dead, and he would surely die in this bloody cave at the end of the world.

It was dark. The only light came from the entrance of the cave, because prisoners were never graced with torches or with fire. At first, Hyde could barely stand the cold inside his "cell", but now he welcomed it without complaint. The pain had lessened considerably. In front of him, deer and bear carcasses were piled up on a snow bank and Hyde could make our even more animal silhouettes in the darkness around him. If he hadn't been in such severe pain, and if he wasn't so weak, he would have been terribly hungry looking at all this food, but he couldn't care less about it now. His miserable state made him nauseous and there was no way he would be allowed a last meal anyway. This was another thing about packs that annoyed him painfully. They never ran out of food.

From what he'd heard from the wolves that dragged him here, the Alpha of the pack had gone hunting and would return soon. Hyde had thought that, if given enough time, he could maybe think of some plan to get himself out of this mess, but he quickly realised it was a lost cause. His busted knees made his legs completely useless. He knew very well he wouldn't be going anywhere. And then he wondered if the boy had survived. Naively, he told himself that if it was the case, maybe the Alpha would want to finish him quickly so that he could return to his mate. If not, if the young wolf was dead when he arrived, then he would take his sweet time and Hyde knew he would have to suffer through long hours of torture before being allowed to croak. It was a real shame that they'd searched him before throwing him in here. If he still had his pocket knife, he could have slit his throat and be done with it.

Some voices coming from outside caught his attention and he turned back to the entrance, where he could still distinguish the shadowed silhouette of the man guarding the cave. There had been two of them not long ago, but Hyde hadn't seen the other one leave. He dreaded what all this commotion was about.

Surely, a minute or so later, another man entered. Of the newcomer, Hyde could only make out the outline as he stood in the entrance against the daylight, but the prisoner knew at once that this was undoubtedly the Alpha. His strong stature and the particular scent that emanated from him in strong whiffs convinced Hyde that this was a powerful werewolf. Then the man stepped into the shadows, allowing the captive to glance at his features more clearly. He had longish greying hair and a face hardened by life but with soft edges. However, his eyes told the biggest part of the story. They contained fury and a fear that immediately convinced Hyde that the boy was still alive. But most of all, from his face Hyde could read that this man was noble and honest. Men like that were seldom met amongst werewolves nowadays, and they usually never failed to sicken him. This time, however, Hyde couldn't help feeling slightly grateful. In all his clumsiness, he had at least managed to wrong an Alpha who might end up being merciful.

The man crouched before him and their eyes met in the darkness. The intensity in the Alpha's pale blue gaze quickly made Hyde uncomfortable. He shifted backwards slightly, suddenly afraid that the man would step on his wounds like the old bastard who took him captive had done many times already. The Alpha noticed this and turned back to look at the wolf standing in the entrance.

"You didn't hold back, Loftr," he said plainly.

"I didn't think you'd mind," said the older wolf with a lazy shrug.

"I don't," the Alpha announced as he turned his pale gaze back towards the prisoner.

"Why don't you just kill me and get it over with?" Hyde said through gritted teeth.

The tension in the cave, along with the way the newcomer was staring at him, were becoming too much to handle.

"You are in no position to make such demands," the man said coldly.

The fear in the Alpha's eyes had vanished and his whole face became almost emotionless. All that was left in his gaze was a strange fascination. A long moment of silence passed before he spoke again, and Hyde could tell he was holding back, trying to keep his anger in check.

"Who are you?" the Alpha finally asked with a blank voice, his eyes never leaving the prisoner's face. He didn't give Hyde a chance to answer, though. "Who are you to come here, breach the borders of my territory, and try to take my mate away?"

"He's not your mate."

The words made it through Hyde's lips before his mind could even process them. He suddenly felt defensive and it was the first thing he thought of that was somewhat likely to protect him. Maybe it was adrenaline, or simply the realisation that whatever happened, he had nothing to lose, but Hyde felt suddenly bold.

"Your scent is nowhere on him. I couldn't possibly know you were courting him..."

His voice died in his throat when the Alpha's hand wrapped around his neck and squeezed painfully. Hyde flailed his arms, trying to free himself from the iron grip, but he was held down too strongly. He was already weakened from his wounds, and the Alpha's anger easily gave him the upper hand.

"You damned rogues should all be killed on sight," the Alpha groaned fiercely, staring into Hyde's face with fire in his eyes. "I know wolves like you. You roam around like you own the world, destroying everything we honest wolves build, and you think it fair to just take whatever you want. You preach about wanting to live in freedom while the only reason you are free in the first place is because no one wants you."

Hyde's throat was released just as he was about to black out from lack of air. He took deep breaths, choking on the first gulps of oxygen. All the while, the Alpha watched him intently.

"You are mine to do with as I please now. This can be over with quickly, or it can be done the hard way. You better choose your words wisely from now on. Do you understand me?"

His voice was softer now, but not in any way that made Hyde feel any better about the situation. He nodded.

"Good. Now, what is your name?"

"Hyde," he groaned.

"You are a born wolf," the Alpha said, raising an eyebrow at the short answer he'd received. "What clan do you come from?"

"Goodwin," the prisoner snarled, almost in defiance. "My Father is head of the Goodwin clan."

"And why did you leave your clan?" the Alpha asked again, but he seemed to already know the answer.

"I was disowned and sent away," Hyde admitted in a rough voice.

The Alpha snorted in disgust but did not comment. "You're from Britain, judging from your accent. Am I right?"

"Yes."

"What were you and your companions doing out here? What business did you have in this country?" the Alpha interrogated sharply.

"We were just passing through," Hyde said shortly.

The Alpha seemed deeply unsatisfied with this answer. He leaned even closer. "Were you sent by Death Eaters?"

Hyde stared at the man in surprise. He wasn't expecting to find someone out here with knowledge of the existence of wizards.

"Not directly," he said quietly.

"Please feel free to elaborate," the man said dryly.

"We were charged with the recruitment of werewolves, that's all," Hyde said defensively. "We were first sent to Darkhan to meet up with a pack there, on the outskirts of the city. After that, we were ordered to make our way towards Moscow, but some wolves in Mongolia told me that Lucan Donegan's pack was up here somewhere. I thought we might stumble upon them and get them to join our side, so we thought we'd search around a bit. But it was too cold and we decided to be on our way. We were just leaving. I had no idea the boy even really existed, I swear..."

"You were searching for Donegan's pack," the Alpha said, interrupting his tirade.

Hyde only nodded briefly, deciding it might not be a good idea to keep babbling.

"Well, you've found it, except Donegan is dead and I am in charge now." A bitter smile formed on the Alpha's lips. "Tough lucky, really... If you'd found Donegan and he'd agreed to join you, you'd have thirty plus wolves on your side. But I found him first, and with me, you see, things are different."

"Who are you?" Hyde asked.

"I am Fenrir Greyback, head of the Greyback clan," the Alpha announced. "I see you've heard the name before."

"You're Felix Greyback's brother," the prisoner said, barely managing to hide the disbelief in his voice. A flicker of hope grew inside his chest.

The Alpha smiled grimly. "Yes, but it doesn't matter, you see. We are far away from the Ministry of Magic's jurisdiction, and they don't know you and your companions ventured through here. As far as they know, you could have been killed by that pack in Mongolia, or you could have died of cold or hunger. Pureblood werewolf families feud all the time. You should know that if your own family cast you away. My brother and I are no exception. We never got along, so I couldn't care less right now about his rules and his trials. Who's going to come all this way just for one, miserable rogue wolf who set foot where he wasn't supposed to? Even if I did send news of your actions to my brother, it would take weeks for the letter to reach him, and do you really think I would allow you such a respite after what you did to my mate?"

Hyde didn't answer. He couldn't think of anything to say that would stop or postpone what would happen to him. The Alpha straightened before speaking again.

"You mentioned that you weren't sure the boy existed. What do you mean by that?"

On his face was the look of someone who wouldn't accept being lied to. Hyde decided that it didn't matter now anyway, so he might as well spill the beans.

"All everyone has ever heard has been nothing but rumours," he said, suddenly feeling very tired. "They told us to look for him, that he was a wolf, but I don't think anyone is really looking that hard."

The Alpha nodded thoughtfully. Then he stood and gestured towards the other man, who handed him an object that Hyde couldn't see well in the darkness.

"You're not as stupid as you look, Hyde Goodwin," the Alpha said. He made the prisoner's name sound like an insult. "You've been quite informative, actually. We were warned that vultures like you might be coming our way. We just didn't expect it to be so soon. Now we'll be ready. I trust you understand that I can't let you get away with the knowledge that you hold."

Hyde just nodded. He was too tired now to even raise his head to look up at the man.

"Of course, I wouldn't let you go even if your people weren't trying to kill my mate. Tell me, you're from Britain, you know my name, but have you heard of Farrell Greyback?"

"It rings a bell," Hyde said quietly, wondering where this was going.

"Farrell Greyback was my grandfather. They called him The Wolverine. He was as large as a bear, even in human form. I have yet to meet a man as terrifying as he was. He had this madness in him, and eyes that blazed. He was such a hunter that prey literally dropped at his feet. Once, the people of his pack, who were so frightened of him, plotted to kill him. He found out, and out of revenge, he took away all the pups and ate them while they were still alive and screaming."

A moment of silence passed.

"They call it the wrath of the Greybacks. My father had it too. He used to take me hunting when I was younger. He didn't hunt deer or bear, though. He preferred humans. I've been struggling with these urges all my life. I've been abstaining for a long time now, but you know what they say about old habits?"

"No," said Hyde forcefully once it was obvious that the Alpha was waiting for an answer.

"Loftr," he said to the other man, "do you know what they say about old habits?"

"They die hard?"

"Exactly."

Hyde heard a thundering noise and he knew no more.

Fenrir shot the prisoner three times in the head until his face was a bloody mess of skin and bone. When he was done, he gave the gun back to Loftr and left the cave, unable to bear the sight of the bastard who had hurt Hagan. His friend came out after him and they stood in silence before the entrance of the cave for a while.

"The Wolverine..." Loftr remarked with a smirk. "I never heard such a nickname about old Farrell."

"I might have exaggerated a little," Fenrir huffed.

"And he really ate pups? I thought he preferred roots and mushrooms and had given up meat because it's too hard to masticate when you've got no teeth..."

"Shut up, Loftr," the Alpha said as he walked away towards Bannock's cave.

"I'm sorry," Loftr called after him in a fake pleading tone. "I wouldn't want to suffer the wrath of the Greybacks."

 

 

Hagan was sobbing with Fenrir entered. A large basin had been filled with ice and cold water, and Callan and Elwyn were gently trying to lower the young man inside it, but it wasn't easy. Hagan's whole body was shaking violently, and he gripped the edges of the basin desperately, struggling against his two friends. The arrow in his shoulder had yet to be removed. The wound had turned a violent shade of crimson red.

"What are you doing?" Fenrir cried, bolting instinctively towards the twins. Hagan's cries seemed to trigger something inside his head. He felt terribly alarmed all of a sudden. "Stop! Leave him alone!"

Yrsa ran to him and caught his arm in a surprisingly strong grip. "Fen, we're only trying to soothe the fever," she said, pulling her brother away. "If we don't do something soon, he's going to die." Her voice was sharp and full of authority. Fenrir was once again reminded of their mother. "Either help us or get out..."

"No..." Hagan was crying faintly. "I'm so cold... Don't put me in there..."

"It's for your own good, I swear," Elwyn said in a weak voice. He obviously felt terrible about putting his friend through this.

"Fenrir..." the younger wolf called when he saw the Alpha approaching. His large green eyes looked almost foggy from the fever and there were red circles around them. "Don't let them hurt me!"

 _You'll protect me, won't you, Fen?_ Tuomas had said months ago.  _You won't let them hurt me._

"Leave him," Fenrir groaned deeply in a dangerous voice that made everyone in the cave stop what they were doing. They all fell silent. The only noise that remained was Hagan's weak sobs. "You two, get your hands off him and get out," Fenrir told the twins, jerking his head towards the entrance. "I'll handle this myself."

"Alpha..." Callan started, his eyes pleading Fenrir to be reasonable.

"I said get out."

Carefully, the twins laid Hagan's body back on the pile of covers and they left the cave, not daring to look the Alpha in the eyes. Yrsa looked on but never said a word. She watched her brother with a deep frown on her face and a strange expression that might have been either condescension or pity. Fenrir ignored her and approached the young man's body, still shivering on the blankets. He had stopped crying and turned his bright eyes towards Fenrir.

Hagan had been stripped down to his underwear. Many scars were visible all over his skin. There were the old ones that Fenrir recognised from their encounters after the full moons, but he could also see new ones: angry red welts and strange slashes that had his blood boiling with rage. He knelt next to the sickly pale wolf and reached out to touch him, but stopped himself. Hagan looked so fragile. Fenrir was suddenly afraid that a single touch would hurt him.

"Fenrir Greyback," Yrsa said firmly. "We have to put him in there before the water gets too warm. Do it yourself, but do it now."

"It's okay," Fenrir said softly to Hagan, who started sobbing again when he heard his sister's words. "I've got you now."

"Fenrir," Yrsa repeated in a louder voice.

"I know," the Alpha snapped.

"I'm so cold," Hagan whispered, but sweat was dripping down his face. His dark hair was damp with it and his thin chest glistened in the firelight. "Please... I don't want to..."

"You have to, Hagan. You'll feel better after, I promise you." He pushed some wet strands of hair away from the young man's forehead and caressed his cheek gently. "I won't leave you. I'll be right here. It'll be over soon."

He screamed when Fenrir picked him up. The Alpha knew it would have been less painful for Hagan if he'd had some help carrying him to the basin, but for some reason, he was set on doing this himself. A strange possessive instinct had taken hold of him, from a dark corner of his mind. It refused to have anyone else touch Hagan when he was wounded. Fenrir had heard of such behaviour in mated wolves, and it was all the more puzzling because he hadn't mated with Hagan yet. In fact, they had completely dissolved any such plans the last time they talked. So why was he acting this way?

Once Hagan was lowered into the ice basin, he started sobbing harder but seemed too tired to keep yelling. Fenrir knelt next to him and held his hand, talking to him gently, trying to keep his mind off the cold. Hagan calmed down after a few minutes and looked ready to doze off by the time Yrsa told Fenrir to take him out of the basin and back under the covers.

"What have you done with the rogue wolf?" his sister asked while they were tucking the blankets tightly around Hagan's body.

"I shot him in the head," Fenrir said quietly, his eyes never leaving Hagan's face to make sure the young wolf wouldn't fall asleep. "We can't keep him awake any longer. He's exhausted," he added.

"We don't know how hurt he is. If he falls asleep, he might never wake up," Yrsa said softly. She looked up at her brother with sad, helpless eyes. "I don't know what to do, Fen. I'm so sorry."

At that very moment, Janus barged into the cave, making both Greybacks jump in surprise. Fenrir groaned instinctively, as if warning the newcomer to keep away from the wounded wolf.

"Osgar is back," he said.

He had barely finished talking that the blonde wolf was entering the cave after him, out of breath and hair in disarray. Fenrir stood abruptly, stepping forward to stand between Osgar and Hagan's body, but he was surprised to see another man enter the cave after Osgar, a stranger.

He knew immediately, from the man's smell, that he was human. He was dressed in a thick, long coat and the hood, lined with fur, was tightened around his face, which was tanned and so wrinkled you could barely distinguish the slits of his eyes amongst the creases. But surely, on both sides of his large, flat nose, two black orbs, shining like marbles, stared back at the Alpha. The newcomer carried a heavy bag with him and two large, intricately-fabricated snow rackets were fastened onto his fur boots.

"What is this?" Fenrir spoke dangerously, staring at Osgar with a deadly serious face. "What are you playing at? Who is this man?"

"He means no harm, Alpha," Osgar said quickly and his voice held no malice, only fear and urgency. "As soon as I heard Kosta say that Hagan was hurt and that Bannock couldn't help, I rushed to the village to get Guzen. He's the Evenki's healer. I've met him before, when I traded with the villagers. He speaks our language and I thought..."

"Is that the Wolfboy?" the man spoke then, pointing at Hagan, with an accent so thick Fenrir could barely understand a word.

Osgar nodded and under the astonished and watchful eyes of the werewolves, the old man unclasped his rackets, stepped out of them, and approached Hagan, dragging his heavy back beside him.

He crouched near the young wolf and removed his hood, revealing more of his wrinkled face and a mess of tangled, dark grey hair. Fenrir walked over and knelt across from him, on the other side of Hagan's body, staring at the old man carefully, ready to jump up and tackle him if he ever dared hurt Hagan.

"He is badly hurt," the Evenki said. His voice was rough, as if sharp rocks were rolling around in his throat. He un-tucked the blankets around Hagan and pushed them aside to better examine the damage. Fenrir shifted nervously.

"Please let him help, Alpha," Osgar said. He had joined them and was looking down at Hagan with wide eyes. The look of terror in them mirrored Fenrir's feelings and the Alpha managed to calm down the protective instinct inside of him long enough to nod and allow the old man to continue his examination.

"Mmmm..." Guzen groaned as he noticed the arrow in Hagan's shoulder. He looked at the wound for a little while. "Not good. You've waited long enough. The arrow has to come out now!"

He didn't seem to be used to speaking English, because even though he expressed himself well, his accent was terrible. He raised his head and looked directly at Fenrir.

"You're Wolfboy's... friend?"

Fenrir nodded. The old man's use of the word 'friend' was obviously for lack of English vocabulary, because the softer voice he had used when saying it told Fenrir that he understood the dynamics of his feelings for Hagan. The old man offered him a toothless smile.

"I am here to help," he said in a reassuring voice, pressing a wrinkled hand against his own chest to show honesty. "I will not hurt the Wolfboy. You will have to help me. The arrow has to come out now." He waited for Fenrir to nod again and turned to Osgar. "The yellow hair Wolf will help too."

Osgar seemed to hesitate and looked at the Alpha questioningly.

"Just do what he wants," Fenrir told him impatiently. "We don't have time for this now."

Osgar removed his coat quickly and crouched next to Guzen, awaiting instructions. Hagan was quiet, staring at them with a confused expression on his face. The fever seemed to have diminished, but he didn't seem all the more alert, and soft tremors shot through his body now and then.

"You hold him down. I will get the arrow out," the old healer announced.

Fenrir and Osgar didn't need to be told twice. They pushed down on Hagan's arms to keep him lying on the ground while Guzen took hold of the broken arrow firmly with both hands. A second later, he pulled it out of the wound with surprising strength for such a frail-looking man. Hagan let out a blood-curling scream that raised the hair all over Fenrir's body. He had to remind himself that Guzen was trying to save Hagan's life to keep from ripping his wrinkled head off. Osgar looked pale and nauseous. For a second, Fenrir thought he might pass out, but he just turned his head away for an instant and when he looked back towards Hagan, his face was blank.

Hagan started sobbing loudly as Guzen searched through his heavy bag.

"Use your hands to stop the blood," he said, taking out various bottles and herbs.

There was a lot of blood. The arrow had stopped the flow so far, but now that it had been removed, the thick red liquid flowed freely from the wound. Fenrir pressed both his hands on the injury. Fear coursed through him as he watched the blood seep out between his fingers. He wasn't an expert on anatomy, but he suspected the arrow had ruptured something important.

Guzen soaked some herbs into a strange-smelling paste and rolled this into a ball that resembled something a cat would throw up.

"Remove your hands now," he told Fenrir with a reassuring nod.

Fenrir did as he was told and the wound started bleeding again. Guzen quickly stuck his fingers inside the wound, crooking them in awkward ways that had Hagan yelling in pain.

"What are you doing?" Fenrir asked fiercely, ready to hit the old man.

"Shush," Guzen said with a concentrated frown on his face. He took the smelly ball of herbs and stuck it inside the wound, pushing it around. "It will stop the bleeding and heal faster. Now clean up this mess."

Before any of them could move, Yrsa brought over a pot of warm water and some clean towels. She had obviously expected that those would be needed eventually. Fenrir wiped his bloody hands on his shirt before grabbing Hagan's hand in his to try and soothe his cries. Guzen fumbled around his bag and took out the small leaf from a plant Fenrir could not recognise.

"Put this in his mouth," he told Fenrir. "It will make the pain go away."

The Alpha slipped the leaf inside Hagan's mouth while Osgar started cleaning the wound with the wet rags. The blonde wolf looked terribly pale and Fenrir couldn't help but smirk slightly. Who would have guessed that blood made him queasy? But there was no time to taunt him about this now. Hagan needed them.

Guzen started pressing his wrinkled hands on various spots of Hagan's body, checking for internal damage and broken bones. Hagan had stopped shaking and was now staring at him silently, his green eyes half-closed but strangely observant. The leaf was already affecting him.

"Broken ribs," Guzen said quietly, as if speaking only to himself. "Three of them, I think," he told Fenrir.

"Can you heal them?" the Alpha asked, worried.

"They heal themselves. We could bandage his chest, but I don't like that. It's uncomfortable. You will have to make sure he doesn't move too much, but that shouldn't be a problem. It will be painful, but they will heal in..."

He interrupted himself and looked at Fenrir curiously.

"Do you heal the same as humans?" he asked, genuinely interested.

"A little faster."

"Then I suppose in a few weeks he will be fine. Now his leg," he continued with a sigh, "that's different."

Fenrir had been worried about that. It looked like the bone was fractured.

"How bad is it?"

"It's nothing threatening. There will be no need to cut it off, it's not infected," Guzen said, examining the wound closely. Fenrir breathed out in relief. "But I can't be certain how it will heal. It's a strange wound..." he trailed off.

Fenrir decided to say nothing. It was better not to mention that it could have been caused by magic. The old man might know about werewolves, but assuming he was aware of the existence of wizards was wishful thinking.

"I will heal it and make sure it doesn't get infected, but you will have to keep his leg bandaged and still. He won't be able to walk on it for now."

By the time the leg was taken care of and wrapped in fresh bandages soaked in the same foul-smelling ointment, Osgar had already finished clearing the wound on Hagan's shoulder and the injured werewolf had dozed off. He was breathing unsteadily but he looked peaceful. Guzen had assured them that he was out of danger and it was safe for him to sleep. In fact, it was better if he slept as much as he could. He would need a lot of rest. Even in sleep, his body kept shaking with constant waves of pain.

Osgar had to leave the cave when Guzen started suturing the wound from the arrow. The blonde wolf had grown pale and looked ready to pass out. Fenrir felt confident enough that Hagan would be okay, so he allowed himself a few taunts towards Osgar before he slipped out.

The sun had started to set when Guzen was done. Fenrir thanked him numerous times, promising that he would repay the villagers for their help any time they needed. Guzen only nodded and smiled politely, but Fenrir knew the man was only too glad to be done and eager to return to his own people. He asked Callan to walk the healer back to his village and the redhead nodded quietly. He still looked upset at the Alpha for refusing his help earlier.

Fenrir stood outside the cave for some time, looking around the clearing. He was so relieved it was almost painful. The pack had been restless all day, worrying about Hagan, and they were just as happy to know the young man would be okay. Loftr and Kolfinn had disposed of the rogue's body during the way. It was probably feeding a few wild animals somewhere in the forest, but Fenrir did not care to know. The fire in the clearing had been lighted again and the wolves were gathering around with some food as a small makeshift celebration for Hagan.

When Fenrir looked away from them, he saw Osgar walk towards him. His face had its usual colours again, and like the Alpha, he looked as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"How is he?" he asked when he reached Fenrir.

"He's still sleeping. Yrsa and Janka are bandaging his shoulder. Guzen left some medicine and instructions," the Alpha said, somewhat distantly. He felt numb now with the panic gone.

"Good," Osgar answered shortly.

They stood next to the cave in silence, looking at the gathering of the wolves in the clearing.

"I want to thank you," Fenrir said after a while. "I know we're had our differences, and I still don't like you very much, but you probably saved his life today. I can only be grateful for that."

"There's no need to thank me. It felt only natural to seek help. You know how I feel about him..." Osgar started, but Fenrir cut him off.

"Yes, I know all too well. And if you think this means that I will let you..."

"I don't," Osgar admitted. "It's clear who Hagan wants to be with, and that's not me. I've come to terms with it today. I just want him to be alive and well."

Fenrir could hardly believe what he was hearing. Osgar was staring at the wolves in the clearing with a pained smile on his face.

"We've had our chance, sometime in the past. But it's ruined now. It's mostly my fault, I can admit that. I don't know if I will ever stop loving him. I don't think I can ever love someone else, but only time will tell. There's always only been him for me. I've done everything I possibly could to try and make him love me, but I know he never will. I'm not noble like you. I try to do the right thing, but I'm too weak most of the time. I don't deserve someone like Hagan."

The words came out almost painfully, like they'd been kept inside for too long and were rusty.

"Maybe it would be better if I left the pack and found a new one. I don't have many friends left here and it would be easier on all of us, I think. I haven't decided what I will do yet."

"It's your choice. If you decide to leave, I will not stop you, but you will always be welcome here, no matter what," Fenrir said sincerely.

They had come very close to ripping each other's faces off, but Osgar was still the one who had allowed Fenrir to find this pack, and to find Hagan.

Osgar nodded silently. He was about to leave when Fenrir continued.

"The last time we spoke, he told me he didn't want to be with me," he admitted. "I don't quite remember what I answered, but it wasn't much better."

Osgar laughed softly. "I wouldn't worry about that if I were you," he said, patting the Alpha awkwardly on the shoulder. "I know Hagan, and I can tell you with certainty that he's never wanted anything more than he wants you. He just doesn't know how to deal with that, or how to express it. He was never really allowed to be a kid when Lucan was around. I suppose it's all coming out now."

"So I'm stuck with a trouble teenager," Fenrir said grimly, but he couldn't help smiling.

"I'm afraid so. Good luck on that," Osgar said before walking away.

"Osgar," Fenrir called.

The blonde wolf stopped and turned back to him.

"If you decide to go, don't forget to say goodbye," he said. "He would be devastated if you left without telling him."

Osgar smiled sadly, but he nodded before heading to the clearing towards the others.

At least one good thing had come out of this mess, Fenrir thought. He probably would never be on better terms with Osgar, but he felt like they had at least reached some kind of truce.

 

 

All Fenrir wanted was to watch over Hagan, but Yrsa forbid him to do such a thing until he washed himself, or at least changed his clothes, which were stained with blood. Once it was done, he fetched his furs and bedding from his corner of the Greyback cave and brought them to Bannock's, where it was laid on the floor next to Hagan. He told everyone to leave, curled up by the young man's side, and watched him sleep.

He must have dozed off because he was woken sometime in the night by a sudden noise. He rubbed his face tiredly and looked up to see Kolfinn carrying in wood for the fire.

"Are you guarding tonight, Kol?" he asked groggily.

Kolfinn was startled and dropped a log of wood. He cringed as he picked it up, but Hagan didn't wake.

"In a few minutes I'm starting my round on the eastern border," he said quietly, narrowing his eyes at the flames as he carefully set the wood into the fire. "Osgar took the south, even though it wasn't his turn. He said he couldn't sleep. You don't mind, do you?"

"No, it's okay. Is everyone else asleep?" the Alpha asked with a sudden feeling of guilt. He always checked on the pack before he went to bed, but had neglected to do so that night.

"Almost," answered his brother-in-law. "The rest of the guard is still up: Maeve, Janus, and the twins... all except Loftr. They're out in the clearing, just talking. The weather is fine tonight. I suppose they felt like staying up." He was quiet for a little while. "What happened raised a lot of questions in the pack," he added carefully.

"I know," Fenrir whispered. Hagan stirred but he didn't wake. "I will talk to them tomorrow." But first he would need to figure out what could be said and what was best kept hidden.

"Loftr told me the rogues ended up here at random."

"Yes, we've just been very unlucky."

Kolfinn sighed heavily. "Fen, I want you to know..." he started, with guilt in his eyes, "I never meant for any of this to happen. When I said we shouldn't keep him with us, I didn't mean it..."

"I know you didn't," Fenrir said with a nod. "You were scared, I understand. I'm scared too. In fact, I've never been this scared before in my life," he admitted.

"Still, I feel like I jinxed you somehow. You can't deny this was an incredibly strange coincidence, that they would find him, out of all people, in this place."

"It was just that, a coincidence," Fenrir said firmly. "You might be strong, Kol, but you don't have to power to make things happen. All we can do is wish it will never happen again. Luckily, none of them will live to tell the tale."

"I suppose you're right," Kolfinn replied quietly. "How is he?"

"The old healer said he will be fine, although I don't know when that will be." Fenrir looked down at Hagan's sleeping face. He looked so peaceful, it was almost ironic.

"He's strong, though. I'll give him that," Kolfinn said with a small smile. "Well, I should be off now. Good night, Fen."

"Good night."

He watched Kolfinn leave silently. The fire was almost roaring now. Hagan shifted slightly in his arms but slept on.

"They came," a voice said suddenly.

Fenrir's heart jumped inside his chest. He turned his head quickly and saw a silhouette in the back of the cave.

"Well," the Alpha groaned, "look who decided to join us."

Bannock stepped out of the shadows and approached the fire to warm himself.

"Yes," the old man said softly. "I'm afraid I had to take a short leave of absence. It's unfortunate that something so dreadful would happen while I was gone."

"You know what I think?" Fenrir asked with disdain, unconsciously wrapping his arms tighter around Hagan. "I think you come and go when it suits you."

"Do not dare doubt my intentions, Fenrir Greyback," the old man said in a snappish voice. "The werewolf hierarchy doesn't apply to me. I am not some member of your pack that you can scold whenever something doesn't suit you."

Fenrir was struck silent with surprise. Bannock acted in a way that was completely unfamiliar to him. Gone was the weakened old man who mumbled nonsense whenever anyone asked a direct question. The fire was crackling frantically when he approached it. It almost seemed to create electrical waves around his body.

"You know what happened. How long have you been listening in on us?" Fenrir asked.

"I don't need to eavesdrop to know what's going on. Some wizards found us, I am aware of it. I know everything that happened during my absence," answered Bannock, rubbing his hands together over the flames. "Nothing escapes my attention, no matter what state I am in."

"You're not really just a regular shaman, are you?"

It was obvious to Fenrir now, so obvious, in fact, that he wondered how on earth he hadn't noticed it before. The wondrous healing potions, the mysterious trances he always found himself trapped into – those weren't normal, even for a shaman, however mystical he was.

"No, not really," Bannock admitted. He turned away from the fire and approached his corner of the cave to open the large medicine chest. He fetched a few bottles from it and walked over to Fenrir, kneeling next to Hagan.

"So you're a wizard then, but you don't use a wand. Or at least, I've never seen you with one," Fenrir said as he watched the old man uncork some potion vials.

"I own one, but I only ever use it to make the potions. No one has ever paid it any attention. They think it's just a stirring stick. Besides, I didn't want to raise Lucan Donegan's suspicions. He wouldn't have kept me if he'd known I was a wizard." His long, dirty hair hung about his face in tendrils. "Raise his head while I pour these down his throat."

Fenrir did as he was told. Four potions later, Bannock started removing the bandages on Hagan's shoulder to examine the wound.

"Obviously they were wolves before being wizards," the shaman remarked. "We're lucky they weren't fully-trained, otherwise the damages would be near irreparable."

"Yes, I know," Fenrir agreed. "I believe it safe to bet that you are here for a reason," he continued, staring at the shaman in curiosity.

He was just starting to put the pieces together, but everything seemed so apparent now. He supposed he had just been too busy with everything else to notice how odd the man was.

"Yes, of course," Bannock said, looking at him with a mysterious smile. "You don't think Albus Dumbledore would have left the boy here unprotected, do you?"

"Well, you've done a shitty job at protecting him, if you don't mind my saying," Fenrir huffed weakly. He was too tired to be angry at the man. And besides, now that Hagan was out of danger, what good would it do?

"I was told to make sure he didn't come in contact with the wrong sort of people, and nothing has happened," Bannock explained with a hint of indifference in his voice.

"Of course, there was no need to exhaust yourself by doing a little bit of extra work. Like, I don't know, interfering when Donegan decided to rape him."

Bannock frowned deeply but didn't so much as raise his voice when he spoke. "And what was I supposed to do about that? Kill Donegan? And then what? The pack would have been dissolved, the wolves would have gone their separate ways and I would have been left unable to watch over Hagan. I am not responsible for Donegan's actions. I did what I could afterwards. I healed Hagan and I listened to him when he wanted to talk. I did much more about that than anyone else here. My goal is to keep him alive, and here he is."

"And why did you let him fight in the combats?" Fenrir said, reminded of Lucan's favourite. "He could have easily been killed."

Bannock allowed himself a smirk. "Of course he wouldn't have. Hagan is stronger than most of those wolves. He may not look it, and he may not be physically, but he's got his magic working for him. He's just as strong in hand-to-hand combat as you are, Fenrir Greyback."

"What do you mean?" the Alpha asked blankly as he watched the shaman apply a thick potion onto the arrow wound.

"When a wizard doesn't use his magic daily, as most do, it builds up. It doesn't show in usual circumstances, but when the person is threatened, it can act up and do a lot of damage. Magic is linked directly to a person's conscience and emotions. When survival instinct kicks in, the body can send terrible surges of magic. I expect that if his friends hadn't stopped those three rogues last night, Hagan would have killed them all himself, even without meaning to. Magic is not just good for lighting fires."

He finished tending to the wound under Fenrir's astonished gaze. Without a word, he started examining Hagan's leg.

"So Albus Dumbledore sent you to the pack after he was forced to leave Hagan with Donegan?"

"I owned an old wizarding shop in Knockturn Alley, if you are ever familiar with the place. Everyone thought I was just a crazy old drunk, my business was on the verge of bankruptcy, and there was already an investigation about the dubious potions I was selling. If I'd stayed, I would have ended up with a free ticket to Azkaban, I expect. But something came up to save the day. Albus Dumbledore knew me as I really was: one of the most powerful Seers to grace the lands of Great Britain. He came to me one day, asking if I would be willing to start anew. What had I to lose? So he gave me instructions and planted me on Lucan Donegan's path. When the Alpha saw how powerful a healer I was, he took me in to take care of his pack. And you know the rest of the story."

"Did you keep in touch with Dumbledore?"

"Before he left me, he ensured that we would have a way to communicate. Of course, the link was broken after he died. I've been trying to find out what's going on now. That's why I've been absent so much."

He started putting the bandages back on Hagan's leg after slipping a few drops of potions into the wound.

"He will heal faster now. That old Evenki did well, but magical damage is harder to fix. Hagan will be fine in a week or so, and by the next full moon, it will be as if nothing ever happened."

"To us, maybe," Fenrir said quietly. "But he will remember it."

"He won't have time to remember it much," Bannock assured him with a smile. "I will keep him busy. He has a lot to learn if he wishes to become my apprentice. He will need to know everything because he will have to replace me one day. I'm not getting any younger. I won't always be here."

"And what have you found out while you were gone?" Fenrir asked, almost dreading the answer.

"Not much. It's not as clear as it was before."

"My brother sent me a wand," Fenrir told him. "Could you teach us magic?"

"I can try, but it all depends on how much of it I remember," the shaman answered with a shrug.

"You're not very helpful, are you?" the Alpha said dryly.

He received a dark stare from the old man.

"I'm doing all that I can, Fenrir Greyback. Things have changed now. You may think it won't affect us because we're too far away from The One Who Must Not Be Named, but don't be so naive. If you stopped feeling sorry for yourself long enough, you would notice it. It's everywhere, like a darkness spreading over the world. We've already had a taste of what is coming last night. In time, it will reach us, don't you ever doubt that."

The shaman went back to his corner of the cave and didn't say another word for the rest of the night.

 

 

When Fenrir opened his eyes, early the next morning, Hagan's bright green orbs were staring back at him.

"How are you feeling?" the Alpha asked urgently, searching his face for any sign of pain. "Are you hurting?"

"Not as much as I should," Hagan answered groggily, shifting to sit up.

"Don't move," Fenrir warned as he sat up and gently pushed the young wolf back onto the furs. "You could damage your ribs or hurt your leg."

"A strange man was here..." Hagan said, frowning as he tried to remember. "Or have I been dreaming?"

"No, you weren't dreaming. Bannock was indisposed, so Osgar got a healer from the village. He fixed you up a bit."

"What did he give me? I feel like someone shit in my mouth," Hagan said moodily with a disgusted look on his face.

Fenrir couldn't help but laugh. The Hagan he knew was back.

"That would be Bannock's potions. He came back during the night," he explained with a smile. "I'll get you something to drink..."

"No," Hagan groaned. "Stay here, I'm too comfortable."

Fenrir lied back down and felt a pleasing flutter inside his chest when Hagan curled into him. The Alpha slipped his arm under Hagan's head and the young man rested his cheek against his chest with a sigh of contentment. Fenrir felt something wet slide down his cheek and realised he was crying.

"What's wrong?" Hagan asked, but he was too tired to look up and never noticed the tears.

"Nothing... I was just scared, that's all," Fenrir said, feeling his throat tighten with each word.

"Yeah, I was scared too. I thought I would never see you again."

Fenrir thought Hagan was probably still a little drowsy from the medicine, because he doubted he would be saying this so lightly otherwise. He wanted to apologise, but wondered if he should wait until Hagan was doing better. He decided he would try now.

"I'm sorry about what I said before. I didn't mean it. You're not a stubborn child. You know what you want and you fight for it. That's a part of you, and that's beautiful. Everything about you is beautiful," Fenrir whispered.

The young man shifted slightly and Fenrir felt Hagan's fingers grasp his softly.

"I didn't men what I said either. It's just that I don't want you to leave me behind. I don't want to be a conquest that you'll forget about as soon as you've had me. I want to be a part of everything in your life," Hagan spoke softly. His voice was tired, but he sounded alert enough to know what he was saying.

"I understand, and you will be. We'll have to try hard to make it work, but we'll make do, I promise." Fenrir paused for a moment, concentrating on the soft strands of Hagan's hair between his fingers. "I love you," he said.

It was almost a murmur, like a secret, but it felt terribly good to say it. He felt Hagan smile against his chest.

"I'm not sure I know what love is," Hagan admitted, "but what I feel for you, it's so strong. I feel like I'm going to explode. I've never wanted anything more than I want to be your mate."

"And I want to be yours," Fenrir said happily.

He had never felt so content before in his life, and right then, he knew it wouldn't be the last time.


	10. The Mates

_"All creatures are flaw, but out of the flaw may come the universe."_

-Marguerite Young

 

 

SPRING ARRIVED EARLY that year. January came and went, carrying the colder days away. When February started, Hagan could walk on his wounded leg again, and by March, the snow was melting quickly, leaving behind large puddles of mud in which the younger wolves loved to have dirt fights. This put Yrsa and Janka on the verge of a nervous breakdown. They refused to wash clothes that were being dirtied on purpose. And so the offenders spent almost every evening on the riverbank doing their own laundry.

For the first time in almost ten years, the wolves of the former Donegan pack had stayed in the same place for more than three months. At first it was out of the question to leave Lake Baikal before Hagan got better, but once he started running about with the others, they all had to admit that none of them really wanted to leave this place.

Fenrir had never felt happier. He woke every morning with warm arms wrapped across his chest and soft hair tickling his face. Yrsa, who was very old-fashioned, frowned whenever she saw him slip out of the Greyback cave at night to join Hagan. According to her, he had no business in Bannock's cave now that Hagan was healed, and such things should not be permitted before the actual mating ceremony. Fenrir kept telling her that they hadn't done anything yet, but still she scolded him like a child every time, convinced that he was somehow defiling Hagan.

The ceremony had been a great pain to organise. Since the Alpha usually had to perform all the mating rituals within his pack, but Fenrir couldn't exactly officiate his own mating, he had to find another Alpha who would be kind enough to do it for him. He was aware that there were other packs around Lake Baikal, but Fenrir really wanted to find someone he knew. He wouldn't trust just anyone with something as delicate as a mating ceremony, and asking a stranger was out of the question. He had first thought about sending someone to Georgia to ask Willem Gotfrei if he would accept, but it would take many months, and neither he nor Hagan were willing to wait for so long, especially with the wizards at bay. Unless they found a quicker way to contact Gotfrei, Fenrir would have to find someone else.

The solution came in the unexpected form of Felix Greyback. Fenrir received word of him a few weeks after Hagan was wounded. His brother said that the dark wizards were continuingly sending recruiters out into the wilderness, but since he had a say in the operations, he had so far managed to lead them off Fenrir's traces and would continue to do so for as long as he was able to. Fenrir hadn't told him about the attack by the rogue wolves. Even if he never mentioned Hagan's real identity, it would only raise suspicions, so he decided to act as if the whole incident had never happened. He did, however, take the opportunity to ask his brother a favour. Those birds of his were awfully fast, would he mind sending one to Gotfrei, asking if he would be willing to perform a ceremony for Fenrir and his new mate? Fenrir wasn't really expecting anything from Felix, but he thought it was worth a try.

And so it was a surprise when his brother wrote back saying that he would organise everything and there was no need to worry. Felix's letters had turned strangely nostalgic and he seemed truly happy to know that Fenrir had finally found someone. This kindness was suspicious at first, but Fenrir supposed that the dark circumstances in which his brother found himself had somehow reminded him that in the end, family still mattered.

As it turned out, in the last months, Gotfrei's pack had moved north of the Caspian Sea. It was slightly closer to the Greyback pack, but still a long distance away. Without one of Felix's birds, it would have taken months for a messenger to reach him and even longer to get an answer. After some very discreet correspondence between Felix and him, Fenrir received word from his brother that the Alpha and the sixteen wolves from his pack would be arriving by Portkey two days before the ceremony, which was to take place on the spring equinox, a week or so after the full moon.

While Fenrir busied himself with the preparations, Hagan spent most of his time with Bannock, brewing potions or roaming the surrounding woods, identifying plants and learning their properties. Fenrir had gone to the market with Yrsa one day and traded a splendid red fox fur for various items, which he had gifted Hagan with as courting presents. Amongst them had been a thick notebook that the young man now used for his training with the shaman. The pages had been blank at first but the book now looked like one of those strange tomes Fenrir's mother had, full of drawings of plants and strange recipes. Bannock had kept his promise. Hagan didn't have time for much else than his apprenticeship and he went to bed exhausted every night.

 

 

Hagan was running through the woods so fast that the trees sped by him like blurry silhouettes in the fog of the early morning. The cold wind rushed against his body, but he couldn't care less. Running always made him feel so free. His bare feet made wet noises as they collided with the leaves on the forest ground. He could have kept running forever. After a while he realised he was dreaming because he didn't feel tired in the slightest. As soon as this thought passed through his head, the world around him started to disintegrate slowly.

As the thick fog of the dream lifted, Hagan felt something pinch his nose. He groaned in annoyance, fighting the urge to wake, and he shifted onto his side, resting his face against Fenrir's chest. He was just about to fall back to sleep when something pulled on his earlobe.

With another groan, Hagan opened his eyes very slightly and saw the face of Antti inches away from his.

"What are you doing here, critter?" he asked the little boy groggily.

"Will you come and play, Hagan?" Yrsa's son asked in an excited whisper.

"I can't," Hagan groaned again, burying his face in the crook of Fenrir's neck. The Alpha moaned softly in his sleep and tightened his hold around Hagan's body.

"Why?" Antti whined in distress.

"Because I'm sleeping..."

"You're not sleeping, you're talking to me," the nine year old mumbled with a pout.

"Yes, well I'm strange like that. I talk in my sleep," Hagan explained tiredly before closing his eyes.

"Oh."

He tried to get back to sleep, but he could still feel someone watching him.

"Are you still here?" he asked in an exasperated voice.

"Yes," Antti answered.

"Does your mother know you're here?" said Hagan, opening his eyes again to look at the little boy with a frown.

"Not exactly..." He trailed off, looking slightly guilty.

"You know she would be mad if she knew you came in here. You're not allowed. Get out before she finds out..." Hagan warned.

"But I want you to come play with me," Antti explained desperately, with a very deep sight, as if it was the easiest thing in the world to do.

"I can't play with you, Antti. I have things to do with Bannock today..."

"But you're always with Bannock. Why can't you be with me for once? Mommy says you'll be family soon, and family always play with each other..."

"I'm sorry, Antti, I really am," Hagan whispered with a soft smile. "I'd much rather be playing with you, believe me, but I don't have a choice. I have to learn everything Bannock can teach me so I can help you if you get hurt. Now you better leave here before your uncle wakes..." Hagan started.

But it was too late. They heard a groan and both turned to look at Fenrir's face. He was staring at Antti with a dangerous expression.

"Antti Greyback, get out of this cave right this second or I'll kick your skinny little butt down the hill!" he roared in feigned anger.

Antti squeaked in fright and ran out of the shaman's cave, giggling uncontrollably.

"That kid is getting cheeky," the Alpha mumbled with a yawn. "If I didn't know better, I would say someone has a bad influence on him..."

"Oh, stop it," Hagan replied with a laugh. "Don't blame  _me_  for that. I'm sure it runs in the family."

Smiling, Hagan pressed his nose and cheek affectionately against Fenrir's face nuzzling softly and rubbing their faces together. It was a very wolfish thing to do, something they often did in their wolf forms, and Fenrir thought it adorable that Hagan would do it even now, as a human.

Fenrir caressed the skin of Hagan's naked back under the blanket covering them both. The young man shivered when Fenrir ran his hand gently over the scar on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry. Does it still hurt?" the Alpha asked gently.

"Not really, it's just sensitive."

Fenrir pressed his lips lovingly on Hagan's forehead and they were quiet for some time, simply content to be with each other in silence. The fire had died out and it was becoming quite chilly inside the cave. Hagan pressed himself against Fenrir, searching for warmth. The Alpha groaned suddenly and put a hand on Hagan's chest to push him back slightly.

"Cuddling is probably not a good idea right now," the older man warned.

Hagan blushed slightly when he noticed the bulge in the blanket.

"So you're happy to see me this morning, are you?" he said with a coy smile.

He pressed himself closer to Fenrir, his thigh brushing against the Alpha's sensitive crotch.

"I could take care of it, you know..." Hagan whispered, taking a look around the cave. Bannock was nowhere to be seen. "I mean, I could try, if you'd let me..."

Fenrir sighed. Hagan was getting bolder lately, not that he was against this... Sure, it was arousing, but also very frustrating.

"Hagan, not before the ceremony... Yrsa would kill me."

"Well, we wouldn't need to tell her," Hagan said, raising an eyebrow.

Hagan felt his face grow warmer with every passing second. He could hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth. Last week, he had gone to the hot springs with Fenrir and they had bathed together. They hadn't done anything more than scrub each other clean, but hands had wandered slightly, and since then, Hagan was fascinated with Fenrir's body. To him, this was all new and exciting, and the fact that it was somewhat forbidden was even more enthralling.

Fenrir chuckled. "Oh, Yrsa would know, trust me. One look at my face and she would know."

Hagan lay on his back next to him. He was silent for a moment, lost in thought.

"I really wouldn't mind, you know," he said quietly, turning to look at Fenrir. "I could use my hands, it wouldn't really be..."

He stopped, blushing wildly. Fenrir shivered at the thought.

"I'm flattered, incredibly," Fenrir said softly. "And I want you,  _so much_ , but I prefer waiting. I want to do this right." He sighed deeply. "But if you keep looking at me with those eyes, I might just give in," he added, turning Hagan's face away from him playfully.

"I can't help it, they're my eyes," Hagan said, laughing.

"And they're beautiful, just like you are."

Fenrir pulled the younger man closer, kissing him softly.

"I can't believe that in less than a week, you'll be mine," he added afterwards, staring into Hagan's face in disbelief, tracing the length of his jaw with a calloused finger.

"And you'll be mine to do with as I please," Hagan said, smirking. "And then you won't be allowed to refuse me anything."

Fenrir laughed heartily. "As soon as we are proper mates, you can have your way with me anytime," he whispered, just as Bannock was entering the cave.

It had been weeks now since the old man had last fallen into one of his trances, and now he was up before dawn every morning. Sometimes he let Hagan sleep in, but most of the time, it was still dark outside when the young man was dragged out of bed.

"Come now, Hagan," the shaman said bluntly. "You've had enough rest. We have much to do."

And a second later, he had left again.

Hagan moaned in annoyance, but he kissed Fenrir one last time before slipping out from under the blankets. The Alpha watched him dress quietly, appreciating the sight of Hagan's pale skin in the dim light of the cave. The young man smiled one last time before leaving. Fenrir sighed deeply. The day of the ceremony couldn't come fast enough.

 

 

On the day Gotfrei and his pack arrived, the weather was even warmer. Most of the wolves were walking around without their coats on, and as he stared down the hill that morning, Fenrir saw Hagan and Bannock were working outside, near the rapidly thawing lake. They were building a small fire on the shore, surely getting ready to brew another strange potion. Fenrir had asked the shaman to stop brewing inside the cave now that the winter chill had gone. He couldn't stand the smells the concocting left behind. Hagan waved up at him from the beach and Fenrir responded, but he didn't interrupt them. Bannock was taking this teaching business very seriously and didn't appreciate being disturbed. Sometimes, Fenrir had the feeling that the old man was trying to transfer all his knowledge to Hagan as fast as he could, as if he knew he wasn't going to be around for much longer. Fenrir wanted to ask him about it, but it wouldn't be much use. It seemed all the shaman had told him that night when Hagan was hurt was enough for a lifetime. He had once again drawn back into his senile old man act and Fenrir couldn't get anything reasonably useful from him.

In the afternoon, he walked into the woods with Loftr and Kolfinn, a few miles away from the camp, to the place where the Portkey would bring Gotfrei's pack. They waited in the small clearing for almost an hour when suddenly, a large group of people seemed to drop from the sky. They fell haphazardly onto the forest floor, some groaning in discomfort. Fenrir had never used any of those devices before, but from what he knew of them, he could certainly understand that they were unpleasant.

Willem Gotfrei smiled widely when he saw Fenrir. He was a tall, strongly-built man in his mid-thirties, with thick, brown hair tied in a low ponytail. His eyes were dark as night, but they shone with a mix of malice and kindness. Fenrir remembered him as a young man, when Willem's family used to visit his father. He hadn't changed much in almost eighteen years.

A long time ago, Fenrir's father had arranged for Yrsa to become Willem's mate, to strengthen the ties between the Greybacks and the Gotfreis. But the two of them were never interested in each other, and Yrsa wanted to find love. This was partly the reason why she had followed Fenrir when he left their home pack. If she'd stayed, she would have never found Kolfinn.

The Gotfrei family was of pure werewolf blood, but they also had magical ties. Until Willem had started his own pack, the Gotfreis had kept to themselves, mostly because of the father's poor health, which never permitted him to travel much. After the old man's death, his family had left and given in to the call of the wild. The pack was composed of Willem's mother, Delia; his two brothers, Hector and Elias; his sister, Belle; and eleven other wolves who had joined them in the following years. Hector was accompanied by his mate, Iris, and their nine year old son, Leander. Elias, Willem's youngest brother, also had a mate: a tall, dark-skinned man named Dorian. At only twenty, Belle was still unmated. She had been a toddler the last time Fenrir saw her, but she had grown into a beautiful young woman, with the dark eyes of the Gotfreis and silky, pale brown hair falling down her back. She smiled shyly when Fenrir greeted her.

Receiving Gotfrei's pack also meant seeing Ralf again, and Fenrir gladly hugged his friend as soon as they caught a glimpse of each other. Ralf had succeeded in finding someone for him in Gotfrei's pack. He introduced Fenrir to his mate, a pretty dark-haired woman called Corinne. They looked good together and Ralf finally seemed happy and at peace. He couldn't wait to see his family again and introduce them to his mate, and he was ecstatic when he heard that Janus, too, had found a mate in his new pack.

Willem was astonished by the size of Fenrir's pack. That night, as members of the two packs gathered around the large fire in the clearing, Fenrir explained to him how he had come to challenge Lucan Donegan, from the events of Lake Inari to the actual fight and the union of the two packs. He rarely had the occasion to talk to other Alphas and gladly gave Willem some advice on how to manage his pack better. Gotfrei seemed just as happy to be able to share details and inquired a lot about the Siberian territory.

"I've been thinking about moving the pack lately," he confessed to Fenrir. "We moved around a little bit in the last few months, but I feel it's not enough. I know that the wizards will be coming for us, and we've been in the same area for too long."

"You think about moving out here?" Fenrir asked, surprised.

He didn't know how he felt about that. Sure, it could be useful having another pack nearby, but it could also mean trouble with the management of the territory. Even though they were on good terms now, there was bound to be trouble whenever two packs meddled with each other too much.

"Not necessarily here, but maybe farther east, near Okhotsk Sea. It's warmer here than I expected at this time of the year. If I'd known, I would have told the pack to travel lighter," Gotfrei explained.

"Yes, we're having an early spring, and we'll have an early summer as well, I hope," Fenrir said. "It suits me, this weather. We can have the ceremony out here. I like it better this way. I performed one this winter and it was so frigid outside that we had to do it inside the large cave. I wouldn't want that for myself. My mother always said that everything that matters should take place out in the open air."

"That sounds right to me," Willem said, staring in Hagan's direction. There was a long pause before he asked, very quietly, "Tell me, your brother, does he know about your mate?"

"What do you mean?" Fenrir asked, his heart suddenly growing cold.

"Does he know who Hagan really is?"

They stared at each other for a long moment. Fenrir had to stop himself from doing something rash. It wouldn't be very clever to stand and provoke Gotfrei while both their packs were surrounding them.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," Fenrir simply said, confused.

Willem understood and smiled reassuringly.

"I wasn't sure, but I heard some rumours that he was one of us and when I saw Hagan, I thought he looked like... And then I got a glimpse of the scar, and I just wanted to see if I was right, and by the look on your face, I am. I'm not going to tell anyone, Fenrir. I wouldn't dare do that to you."

Fenrir had to repress a groan of anger. He had told Hagan to be discreet and to be careful to hide that damned scar at all times, but it only took one second. Willem was an observant one. The pack had also been warned not to speak a word of what they knew, but now it couldn't be helped.

"I don't want my brother to find out," Fenrir admitted, his heart beating frantically in his chest. "He seems to have changed. He's become strangely approachable and reliable, but I don't know what he would do if he found out. I'm afraid he would sell me out to the wizards and send them over here. We've had trouble a few months ago. Some rogues sent to Mongolia found their way out here and they stumbled right on Hagan while he was on guard duty. I almost lost him."

"I won't speak a word of this. Your secret is safe with me, but I would really..." He hesitated, rubbing his face embarrassingly. "I mean, I would really appreciate it if you could ask your brother to..."

Fenrir nodded. "I will ask him to do his best to keep your family safe, don't worry. And you're welcome to move out here with your people if your presence doesn't affect my pack."

Willem smiled. "Very well, Fenrir. Thank you. And I wish you all the happiness you can get, really. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think my sister has been trying to catch my eye. I think she wants me to rescue her. She's never had this much attention before in her life," he said before heading towards Belle, who was surrounded by young men trying to woo her.

Fenrir sighed deeply at what at just occurred, and he looked around. Meanwhile, Hagan was getting along famously with Willem's brother, Elias. The young man was only a few years older than Hagan, and he too had mated with an older man. They were sitting a little farther away from the others, speaking in hushed whispers.

"I wonder what's going on between these two," Fenrir said, sitting down next to Dorian, who had been distantly listening to the various conversations going on around him without really taking part.

"I'm warning you, Alpha Greyback, I'm not responsible for any type of advice Elias might give him," he said with a laugh as he noticed the two young wolves.

Fenrir laughed heartily. "I'd be more worried about what kind of ideas Hagan could put into Elias's head if I were you. And call me Fenrir, please."

"Very well, Fenrir," Dorian said with a nod. "Hagan is beautiful, by the way. I can see why you chose him."

"Thank you, but really, I think he chose me," Fenrir admitted.

Dorian raised an eyebrow. "From the look on your face, I think I can safely guess that he had a lot of suitors."

"One in particular," Fenrir said, "but as you can see, I've been lucky."

"If you don't mind my asking, how much of an age gap between you two?" Dorian inquired.

Fenrir laughed again. "Thanks for reminding me. I try not to think about it too much. Let's just say it's a big one, almost big enough to make me feel like a dirty old man."

It was Dorian's turn to laugh. "All right, I won't mention it again. Willem tells us you have magical blood too," Dorian said suddenly, with a look of interest on his face. "I never knew about all that before I joined the Gotfreis. When I found out wizards existed, I was surprised at first. But then again, it was foolish of me to think that we were the only things out there. I mean, if werewolves exist, all that other stuff must exist too, wizards included. I think it's fascinating."

"It's really nothing special when you're raised a wolf," Fenrir explained. "I can't really do any magic at all, so it's of no use to me."

Dorian nodded. "But it makes you stronger, doesn't it? That's what they say. I mean, if gives you more physical strength or stamina, or something."

Fenrir shrugged. "That's what I've been told, but I've always just thought I was stronger than everyone else," he said, laughing.

"Well, let me tell you, you're going to need that stamina," Dorian pointed out, lowering his voice. "I've got to admit to you, Elias almost wears m out sometimes." He laughed and jerked his head towards the two young men. "At their age, they're pretty much unstoppable."

"Oh, I'm not sure it's such a bad thing," Fenrir said lightly.

"Is Hagan your first mate?" Dorian asked. "Or was there someone before?"

Fenrir shook his head. "No, he's my first. There have been others in the past, but never anyone serious. I never thought I'd find the right one for me, but it was worth the wait. What about you?"

Dorian suddenly looked solemn. "I first mated when I was eighteen, to a childhood friend, back when I was with my home pack. Five years ago, he got sick. He didn't get better. Before he passed away, he told me to find someone else. After, it was too hard for me to stay there. Everything reminded me of him. I left and I travelled for some time before I found the Gotfreis. When I first saw Elias, I knew he was my second chance at happiness. And so here we are. I know some wolves frown on this, mating a second time, but I can't be alone. I've tried, and it doesn't work for me. I need someone."

"I understand," Fenrir said, taken aback by such an intimate confession, but touched nonetheless.

Later, when everyone was retreating to the caves for the night and the Gotfrei pack was settling their sleeping arrangements, Fenrir approached Hagan, who was heading back towards Bannock's cave.

"What have you been talking about with Elias all night?" he asked curiously as Hagan hugged him goodnight.

"Nothing important, he's just been giving me a few tips."

Fenrir raised an eyebrow. "Tips for what?"

"You'll find out," Hagan said with a shy smile before running towards the cave.

 

 

The night before the ceremony, Fenrir and Hagan both travelled to the hot springs to bathe while Callan and Elwyn were sent to catch a doe for the sacrifice ritual, just like they had done months before for Janus and Maeve's ceremony. Willem could be seen walking around camp, practicing his speech, but he didn't look nearly as nervous as Fenrir had. While the men were gathering wood for the fire and setting up benches in the clearing, the women were decorating. Large piece of fabric were hung from the trees, and they swung softly in the wind. This alone gave the clearing a festive but peaceful touch. An archway was also built, similar to the one used in the previous ceremony, but slightly larger.

The ceremony took place late in the afternoon, just as the sun was starting to set. Sunlight glowed orange between the trees as the wolves reunited for the event. Hagan had never seen such a large gathering of werewolves before and he couldn't help feeling nervous. He was eager to see Fenrir again, for they hadn't seen each other for a whole day. He hadn't slept alone for months.

Hagan couldn't quite remember how, but he found himself standing under the archway, holding Fenrir's hands. They were both dressed in white, as was the tradition, and he shivered slightly in the cool breeze. Already the moon was visible in the darkening sky. Once the doe was sacrificed and its blood poured into a shining cup of silver, Hagan swallowed the thick warm liquid without taking his eyes off Fenrir, who did the same after him. When this was over with, Willem started his opening speech.

"We are gathered here this evening to bond two of our own for life," Willem announced in a loud but soft voice.

Hagan shivered once again, but he didn't know if it was from nervousness or from the cold. Fenrir squeezed his hands and gave him a reassuring smile.

"This is a time of purity," Willem Gotfrei continued. "The world around us has thawed and loosened itself from the hands of winter. New life will soon emerge. Like the land, let your love grow green and bloom into summer."

As was the old tradition, a soft ribbon was brought forth, with which Hagan and Fenrir's wrists were tied together.

"Now you are bound one to the other with a tie not easy to break. Take the time of binding before the final vows are made, to learn what you need to know, to grow in wisdom and love, that your bond will be strong, that your love will last in this life and beyond," Willem said.

Hagan could remember when those words had been spoken for others before, and he could hardly believe he was hearing them now for himself.

"With this ceremony, you renounce your previous lives to start a new life with your mate. Hagan, you are joining the Greyback family tonight. I call forward Yrsa as a representative of her clan, to welcome you."

Yrsa came forward, dipped her fingers into the cup of doe blood and smeared a few drops on Hagan's forehead. She was all smiles as she did this, and her eyes seemed to shine with happiness as she looked at her brother's mate. Then she hugged them both tightly before going back to her seat in the front row.

"Hagan Greyback!" Antti yelled with joy and everyone had to laugh.

Willem took out a little dagger and made a small cut in the centre of each of their palms on the hands tied with the ribbon. Fenrir had insisted on including the blood pact in their ceremony. It wasn't as common now as it had been in the older days, but Hagan knew it was important to him, so he had agreed. For the rest of the ceremony, their hands would remain clasped as their blood mingled.

When the time came to say their vows, Fenrir spoke first, staring deep into Hagan's eyes.

"I promise to take you as my only love from this day forward," he started, "to stand by your side, to listen when you speak, to comfort you when you cry, and to join your laughter with my own. Whatever lies ahead of us, good or bad, we will face it together. As of this moment, you are blood of my blood, and bone of my bone. I give you my body, that we two might be one. I give you my spirit until our life shall be done. I will cherish you and honour you through this life and into the next. You will be my mate, and the beta to my pack. Anyone who wrongs you wrongs me. Anyone who hurts you hurts me, because as of this moment, we are one."

When Hagan opened his mouth to speak, his voice didn't seem to want to come out at first. He took a deep breath and when he finally spoke, he was sure the wolves in the back of the clearing could barely hear a word.

"Where there had been cold, you have brought me warmth," he said. "Where my life was dark, you have brought light. I shall be a shield for your back as you are for mine. Look to me for all the days to come, as today I take my place as your mate. I take you, my heart, at the rising of the moon and the setting of the stars, to love and to honour through all that may come, through all our life together, in all our lives. May we be reborn, that we may meet and know and love again and remember."

The rest of the ceremony was uneventful. It mainly comprised of long speeches and boring sermons. Hagan was content to just stare at Fenrir, trying to wrap his mind around the idea that he was actually becoming someone's mate. But by the time Willem said the closing words, Hagan's hands had stopped shaking and he was convinced that he had never done anything this right before in his life.

"May the moon look upon you and bless you. May you know nothing but happiness from this day forward. May the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face."

Fenrir pressed his lips softly on Hagan's, but the kiss deepened and lasted longer than either of them had planned. It finished in catcalls, whistles and applause.

 

 

There was a big feast afterwards. The food cave had very nearly been emptied for the occasion and there was more than enough to feed all the pack and their guests. Fenrir went to fetch his coat for Hagan, who was shivering in his thin linen clothes, and they all settled around the fire, eating and drinking. Wolves stood in turn to tell stories and jokes and everyone laughed and applauded. This went on for a few hours until Fenrir noticed that Hagan, exhausted by the events of the day, had fallen asleep, his face pressed against the Alpha's shoulder.

Fenrir excused himself, telling the others that they could stay up as long as they wanted, but that Hagan and him were done for the night. He woke his mate and led him back to Bannock's cave, which would be solely theirs for the night as the shaman had moved into another cave temporarily. Near the fire, Hagan's bedding had been freshly washed and new furs were added to the pile. A heavy blanket tied above the entrance of the cave served as a curtain to give them some privacy. Fenrir drew it shut once they had entered the cave. When he turned back, Hagan was standing next to the fire, looking incredibly young in his oversized coat. He had been asleep minutes ago, but he looked very awake now.

"What's the matter?" Fenrir asked softly when his mate looked away.

Hagan shrugged helplessly.

"I just... I don't want you to have any..." he looked around, as if searching for the right words, "any... expectations about this."

Fenrir walked to him and smiled gently, taking the young man's face in his hands.

"I thought you wanted to do with me as you please?" he asked teasingly, reminded of Hagan's words from a few days ago.

Hagan grimaced. "I don't feel quite so brave now," he admitted. "I'm scared that I'm going to suck at this and that you'll..."

Fenrir frowned and cut him off immediately. "I won't regret taking you as my mate, if that's what you're implying."

He sighed deeply before he continued.

"Hagan, listen to me. I don't care how experienced you are. None of this matters. I love you. I've never loved anyone more than I love you. You're everything to me. You're an amazing person. The problem is you just don't see yourself the way I see you. And if you could, you would probably be very full of yourself."

Hagan laughed at this.

"In my eyes, there's absolutely no way that you could suck at this," Fenrir explained. "Do you understand that?"

"Yes," Hagan said, nodding.

"Good. Now, tonight is about you. I hope that after those lessons with Bannock, you still have some free space in that pretty head of yours, because I'm going to teach you a few things tonight," Fenrir whispered.

Hagan blushed violently at his words. Fenrir could already feel himself growing hard. It was ridiculous how much he wanted Hagan.

They had seen each other naked before, but now Hagan seemed shy about removing his clothes, so Fenrir decided to start. He stripped from the pale, thin fabric of the ceremonial clothes slowly so that Hagan could watch him. And when he stood completely naked in front of his mate, he opened his arms in a dramatic gesture and Hagan smiled.

"You see?" Fenrir said, smiling back. "This doesn't have to be all serious. It can be fun. Now, this is the part where you take off your clothes. It's not fair that I'm the only one naked."

Hagan smiled. He felt more comfortable now and took off the heavy coat, letting it slip to the ground before removing his thin shirt. He looked at Fenrir for a moment and remembered something Elias had told him a few days ago.

 _You might be scared at first, it's normal_ , Willem Gotfrei's brother had said to reassure him _. Just remember that you have as much power over him as he has over you. That's what being someone's mate is about. Never feel inferior, because there is no need to._

He looked at Fenrir and reminded himself of this. The Alpha looked so carefree at this instant, like he was letting himself go completely.  _You're doing this to him,_ Hagan thought.

He slipped off his pants and underwear and stood in front of Fenrir, breathing deeply, trying not to hide his body. They had seen each other before, but he had never felt so exposed. He watched in awe and fascination as he saw that Fenrir was touching himself, his length growing harder almost every second.

"You are breathtaking," the Alpha said, his voice almost shaking.

He approached Hagan and slipped a hand behind his neck, bending to press their foreheads together.

"I can't believe you're finally mine."

Hagan smiled and slipped his arms around Fenrir's waist, holding him tightly. He shivered when he felt the man's hardness press against his stomach and he slowly moved his hand between their bodies to touch it.

"Can I?" he asked softly.

"You can do whatever you want," Fenrir said with a nod. "There's no need to ask."

The Alpha grunted in pleasure when he felt Hagan's hands on him, exploring. It felt soft and warm and so unlike his own. It was very strange, but it felt right somehow. Fenrir's breath was shaky and he had tensed up, but he made no move to stop Hagan. The thought that he was the first Hagan touched this way was scary, but also incredible.

"I want to see your face when we do it," Hagan said quietly. "I don't want to do this like... like Lucan. I'm scared I might forget that it's you."

Fenrir slid his fingers through Hagan's hair and kissed him deeply.

"Don't worry, I won't let you forget," he said, his voice hoarse with pleasure. "And never mention him again, not here," he added, more softly. "This is just you and me, nothing else."

"I'm sorry."

They were quiet for a moment, and Hagan kept touching Fenrir, listening to his shaky breath, sliding his hand up and down, experimenting.

"You'll have to stop now," Fenrir warned. "I'm not as young as you are, and it's been so long. I don't want to come too soon."

Hagan nodded, suddenly nervous again. "So what do we do?"

"You lie down. I'll do all the work."

So Hagan found himself lying on his back on top of the blankets, with Fenrir's body hovering over his, touching and kissing in all the right places. He almost felt ashamed of the noises coming from his mouth, but then he reminded himself that this was Fenrir, his mate, and there was no need to hold back. At this thought, something grew inside his chest, an urge he never knew he had and when Fenrir kissed him, he responded urgently, biting the Alpha's bottom lip and moaning deeply.

"What's gotten into you?" Fenrir asked, amazed, when he pulled away.

"I told you Elias gave me tips," Hagan said innocently. "Don't you like that?"

"I do, but don't feel obliged to do anything you don't want to do..."

"I do want to," Hagan replied with a frown. "I'm not going to break, you know."

Fenrir smirked at that sudden glimpse of temper. "You want to bet?"

He slid down Hagan's body and took him in his mouth. Hagan cried out, his body arching up and his fingers gripping Fenrir's hair.

"Glad to know I haven't lost my touch," the Alpha drawled and Hagan could only laugh helplessly. "See? I told you this could be fun."

When Fenrir's fingers entered him, Hagan was too confused by all those new sensations to really notice the discomfort. Fenrir prepared him well, taking his time, knowing that if Hagan came, he would be ready to go again in no time.

"Are you sure it's gonna fit?" Hagan asked him softly, staring up at him with wide eyes while he watched Fenrir as positioned himself.

"That's a flattering thing to say," Fenrir said, smiling. "It'll hurt a little at first, but I promise you'll feel pleasure too. You trust me, don't you?"

"Yes," Hagan answered, tightening his hold on Fenrir's shoulders.

And it did hurt, terribly. Hagan felt his eyes fill with tears. He had thought Fenrir was huge, and he was now even more certain of it.

"Just breathe," Fenrir whispered. "Don't panic, just breathe. It'll be all right."

Hagan wanted to do it, wanted it to be all right and perfect, but he couldn't help himself. The pain was so bad. A rough sob escaped from his throat, no matter how hard he tried to hold it back. Alarmed, Fenrir stopped and he was going to pull away, but Hagan gripped his arms tightly and locked his legs around him.

"Don't stop," Hagan pleaded. "I'm sorry I'm so pathetic. I want it, it just fucking hurts," he said, laughing in between sobs.

Fenrir brushed the hair away from his face and chuckled softly as Hagan's body started shaking with laughter. After a minute or so, Hagan started breathing deeply and became serious again.

"Okay, you can keep going," he said very solemnly. Tears were still running down his cheeks, but there was a look of deep concentration on his face.

Fenrir couldn't help it, he burst out laughing. All the tension and nervousness of the whole situation seemed to just vanish from the both of them. Fenrir kissed Hagan again before wiping the tears away.

"Tell me how I've lived this long without you. I don't understand that," he said, shaking his head.

"Me neither," Hagan replied softly. "Just keep going, I'll be alright."

It seemed to take forever until Fenrir was finally fully inside. Hagan's head fell back on the blankets as he sighed in relief, trying to get used to the feeling. With Lucan, he had been in too much pain to really feel anything, but Fenrir had prepared him well and once he was settled inside completely, a certain numbness washed over Hagan. He wiggled his toes and relaxed his legs, which had been tensed in anticipation of the pain.

"How is it now?" Fenrir asked after a moment. He had to breathe deeply to control himself. He didn't want to lose it and hurt Hagan.

"I... I don't know. I think it's okay. It doesn't hurt as much," Hagan said, but he looked confused and uncertain.

Fenrir kissed his face softly, and pressing his arms down on either sides of Hagan's face, he pulled out slightly and thrust in once more. Hagan gasped in pain as Fenrir repeated the process, but after three or four thrusts, he let out a yell of surprise and shivered violently.

"Found it," Fenrir said in a sing song voice that was completely unlike him that it sent Hagan in a fit of laughter.

Fenrir stopped for a moment, adjusting inside Hagan's body so he could hit that spot again. He thrust a few times, experimentally, and was rewarded by another cry from his mate.

"Oh! OH!" Hagan gasped, grasping Fenrir's hips as pleasure shot through him. "Okay... Now I know... what the fuss is all about..."

Fenrir stopped and Hagan moaned in disappointment.

"What?" the young man asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I have a rule, you know? If you can still talk while I'm doing this, it means I'm doing it wrong," the Alpha said before thrusting faster.

The pleasure and the friction of his erection between their bodies was quickly sending Hagan towards the edge. He cried out with each thrust, pushing back, almost choking on his own breath. He shut his eyes in ecstasy, trying to feel everything there was to feel and remember it forever. He was moaning so prettily that Fenrir wasn't fairing much better.

"Open your eyes," the Alpha gasped. "Keep looking at me."

Fenrir slipped his arms underneath Hagan's shoulders, lifting him slightly to press their bodies together as much as possible. Hagan pushed back against the thrusts harder and came a moment later, moaning loudly, his head rolling back onto Fenrir's arm. Fenrir followed suit not long after, stifling a yell by burying his face into Hagan's damp hair.

"That was amazing," Hagan said finally. "I love you."

"And I love you too," Fenrir replied before kissing him. "More than anything."

They fell silent, just holding each other, beads of sweat rolling off their bodies as their breathing slowed back to normal.

"Fen?" Hagan asked after a while.

"What is it?" Fenrir asked sleepily.

"Could we stay here this summer?"

Fenrir smiled.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."


End file.
